


If history is dead and gone

by iregretallmydecisions



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), mcyt
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bad Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Based on SMP, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Drowning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual is a key word, Gen, Good Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Hallucinations, Happy Toby Smith | Tubbo, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Near Death Experiences, Nightmares, No Romance, Not Canon Compliant, Not real people, Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Past Drug Use, Sibling Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Technoblade is Bad at Feelings (Video Blogging RPF), Three Canon Death Thing applies, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Timeline What Timeline, TommyInnit is Not Okay (Video Blogging RPF), Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), minor drug use mentioned?, no beta we die like Mexican dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:47:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 54,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29038095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iregretallmydecisions/pseuds/iregretallmydecisions
Summary: Tommy finds himself faced with his splintered family, while it was still mostly whole. The past is not an easy place to be when the future was not kind.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 362
Kudos: 1794
Collections: MCYT Fic Rec





	1. daylight could be so violent

**Author's Note:**

> I.... I cannot believe I'm writing this. Also this is 100% based on the characters within the SMP canon, nothing to do with the actual people. Also, I kinda just... handwaved the ages. Don't pay attention to them.

Philza was having a _normal_ morning. Normal was a relative term, of course,when you were the father of a moody 20-year-old genius, his (adopted) piglin hybrid twin, and their younger brother, who was a (lovable) menace, not to mention his best friend who was practically a fourth kid.

With a family like that, the house was always loud. Of course, it had quieted in some in the last few years, as kids matured and moved on (and while quiet was nice, he would lie if he said he sometimes didn’t miss the noise). Technoblade was spending more and more time away from home- hell, Phil hadn’t seen his eldest son in almost a year, and he hadn’t written in almost a month. He was busy, off doing Ender knows what, though Phil thought he’d mentioned something about potato farming in his rare, brief letters. That was better than bloodshed, at least, he supposed.

He just hoped his son was safe. As much as he joked about Wilbur being an adult and still living at home, Phil was more than happy for his children to stay with him so that he knew they were safe and cared for. He hadn’t denied Technoblade’s request to leave, but he often wished his oldest hadn’t left the moment he turned 16. (part of him had wanted to follow, to care for his most unstable son, but Wilbur was still just sixteen at the time and Tommy only 10. Maybe one day, when Tommy was 16…)

Regardless, he was having a normal morning, for him. Phil had already tended the cows and horses, ensuring they were fed. He cleared a few trees about a mile from the house, so that the fire would stay warm and cheery, and melt the freshly fallen snow from their boots.

He’d woken Wilbur when he came in, and sent him off to do his usual chores and had spent the last hour or so cutting up potatoes, carrots, and fresh beef for the stew he was making for lunch. It wasn’t much, but with the cold of early winter settling it, it would taste good and warm them up at midday, which was rapidly approaching.

Wilbur should have already been finished with his chores but was likely working on a song instead, singing to Maria, their oldest sheep. Phil didn’t care, as long as he cleaned up the barn at some point.

Tommy, on the other hand, was still sleeping. Normally Phil wouldn’t allow Tommy to sleep so far into the day. It was wasteful when there was always so much to do and see, but Phil felt a little guilty. He and Tommy had been out clearing trees a ways from their house the day before where they were planning to create a bee farm. Phil was lost in his work and Tommy was being helpful but was also having fun pretending to fight imaginary mobs with swords and Phil hadn’t been paying enough attention. It edged a little too close to dark before they started home and the real mobs came out.

Tommy could hold his own against zombies and creepers rather well, but an Enderman, of all things, had appeared. Phil could still remember the slight squawk of fear his youngest had made, causing Phil to turn from the baby zombie he’d just killed, only to Find an Enderman looming over his youngest, shaking with rage.

Phil didn’t remember much of what happened in the next few minutes. The next thing he knew, he was standing over the Enderman’s fading body, his trusty netherite sword glistening in his hand, wings thrown wide as Tommy cowered behind him.

Tommy was really too heavy to carry while flying, but Phil could see he was shaking, and damn it, his son had almost died, right in front of him, Phil wasn’t sure if his hands or Tommy’s were shaking worse as they clung to one another.

The 14-year-old pretended he wasn’t scared when they got back. He told Wilbur that he was a ‘big man’ and that he’d almost had the Enderman down when Phil stole his kill. Phil hadn’t called him out on it and Wilbur hadn’t either after a stern look from Phil. They would play along, but Phil knew Tommy was far more shaken than he was willing to admit. Tommy hadn’t strayed more than a few feet from him or Wilbur the night before. Phil couldn’t help the cool guilt that pooled in his stomach at the idea that his son nearly died because of his own negligence. Tommy acted so brave he often forgot he was nearly 8 years younger than his siblings, with far less experience than them. So, he let Tommy sleep.

But, it was approaching noon and Tommy needed to get up, at least to eat. Perhaps Phil would send Wilbur over to fetch Tubbo- the boy was probably all alone in that house anyway. Tubbo’s father was dead and his mother hardly counted as such- Tubbo spent more time at their house than at his own. Phil didn’t mind, especially since the quiet boy could be such a good influence on Tommy. Well, when Tommy wasn’t being a bad influence on him.

So Phill allowed the soup to simmer over the fire as he rose up on his feet. His knees twinged a little, stiff after kneeling for so long. Phil certainly wasn’t old, by any means, especially not by hybrid standards, but his body had taken quite a bit of abuse over the last 20 years of fatherhood.

Phil trudged up the steps to the second floor where all of his son’s bedrooms were. Tommy’s was at the end of the hall and the door was cracked open just enough that Phil could see a small tuft of blonde hair peeking out from under the blankets. He smiled softly. Tommy looked peaceful like that, unlike he did any time he was awake. Phil loved his youngest, but Tommy could be a right menace, especially now that he’d just caught on to swear words. He just… needed a little guidance.

Tommy was usually a heavy sleep and it sometimes required Phil to practically drag him from bed. If he ever let Technoblade or Wilbur wake Tommy up, there was often water involved. He expected today to be much the same, especially since it had been on into the night before Tommy dozed off on the couch, and Wilbur had carried him up to his bed and tucked him in. Tommy would have protested if he hadn’t been so soundly asleep.

Phil, however, only had to open the door and take a single step in for Tommy to wake up. Tommy shot straight up in bed, looking around wildly before his eyes finally landed on PhilThe look on Tommy’s face froze Phil for a moment. Tommy’s bright blue eyes were wild and blown wide with what looked like sheer terror. His breathing was unsteady and gasping. Tommy was terrified. Phil’s heart wrenched.

“No,” Tommy murmured shaking his head slightly, though he had yet to look away from Phil, “oh fuck no. Oh no. Oh shit.”

That snapped Phil out of his trance. Tommy was terrified- probably still trapped in a nightmare about the Enderman. He couldn't be seeing his room and certainly wasn’t seeing Phil. Tommy was trapped in a nightmare and Phil was stuck watching on the outside. “Tommy,” Phil said softly, taking a step towards his son, hand out, ready to pull him into a hug “Tommy, it’s-”

Tommy flinched back violently, pressing against the wall “Don’t come any fucking closer.” Tommy shouted, startling Phil into stepping back. Tommy was still looking around wildly, like a trapped animal “Don’t fucking do it.”

Tommy had already started picking up curse words from Wilbur and Techno, but the absolute filth spilling from his mouth was unusual even for him. But Tommy was obviously scared, so Phil didn’t try to press closer.

“Tommy what-”

Tommy paled even further, completely ignoring Phil’s words as he started to ramble loudly “Oh Ender, if you’re here, Technoblade isn’t far behind. Or are you supposed to bring me to him? I’m not going. I-I won't let you take me Philza- I-I’ll fucking kill you.” Tommy’s eyes wandered back to Phil who was frozen on the spot. There was rage intermingled in that fear. What was his son seeing? What was his son thinking?

“ I won’t hesitate.” Tommy spat. He pulled his weak wooden sword out of his inventory- he must not have taken it out last night. Phil thought distantly, that he would normally admonish Tommy for that, because it could be dangerous, waking up and being able to pull out a weapon. But Tommy seemed to know exactly what he was doing, with that sword, pointed with an eerily steady hand at Phil “ I-I don’t want to but I will! I need to get out of here. Fuck I’m in deep shit. He is going to fucking kill me, he’s going to kill me or send me to-” Tommy made a choked noise that sounded like sheer panic, and Phil’s stomach twisted in fear for his son. Something was wrong.

Phil wasn't sure if Tommy was talking to him or just himself, but regardless, what he was saying made no sense. Tommy hadn’t seen his older brother in nearly a year, and not regularly for 4. They two had been close when Tommy was little but Techno couldn’t always handle him, especially not on bad days, when the chat was too loud. But nothing, nothing should have garnered this reaction. What sort of nightmare had he had?

“Tommy, please, calm-”

Tommy, however, didn’t seem to hear him, or maybe just didn’t care. Phil wasn’t sure what Tommy was even seeing. Before Phil could react Tommy was out of bed and vaulting across the small room. It took a moment to realize what he was doing, but by then it was too late. Phil dove for him, desperately trying to grab his son, but his hands only brushed the back of Tommy’s shirt. Phil gaped in horror as his son crashed through the glass panes of the window, breaking it with only his body. Phil scrambled to his feet, from where he’d crashed to the floor, and ran to the small window. “Tommy!” he shouted out into the cold morning air as ice spread up his spine, but he only caught a glimpse of blonde vanishing into the dense wood that sprawled around their house.

\----

The window wasn’t big enough for Phil to fly out of and he cursed that design flaw as he ran down the steps. He paused only long enough to pull on his boots and stormed out the door. Every second wasted was a second that Tommy was doing Ender knows what. Every second was one more towards nightfall. Phil’s hands didn’t shake, but it was only years of fighting that kept them steady.

“Dad?” Wilbur was just outside the door, guitar in hand “I heard a crash. Is everything ok?”

“Tommy’s gone,” Phil said shortly, trying not to let the cold panic that clutched at his heart seep into his voice. He needed to keep a level head, for Tommy and for Wilbur. He needed Wilbur to keep it together. He needed his eyes. “I went to wake him up and he panicked, talking out of his head. He jumped out the window before I realized what he was even doing.”

“What? Out the window? Is he okay?” Wilbur asked, concern leaking into his tone “Why-”

“Will, I don’t know.” He snapped “I need you to help me find him. I’m taking to the sky, I need you on the ground. Tommy went north- try and follow his tracks. Take a sword and be careful. Signal me if you find him or if you need me.”

Wilbur looked panicked but Phil didn’t have time to coddle him, not now, not when it was cold, snowing, and inching towards nightfall. Tommy would never last all night against the mobs, not with only a wooden sword. . He simply clapped a hand on Will’s shoulder and said “Be careful, son.” Then he unfurled his dark wings and took off into the skies.

\---  
Tommy was running. He had no fucking clue what else he could do. His weapons were gone. His armour was gone. Even his food, his meagre potatoes, and bread were taken. He had nothing but the stupid wooden sword that he didn’t even remember making, let alone why he would clear his inventory for it. Phil had probably fucking taken it.

All he knew was that he was in a strange room, with his dad Philza standing over him. And wasn’t that just fucking great? Phil was almost as bad as Technoblade, if not worse in the whole ‘hating his guts’ thing. He didn’t know if Phil would kill him or not, but the only reason that Phil would be anywhere near him these days would be if Technoblade asked him to. And after everything that happened, well, Techno would want nothing more than to run Tommy through with a sword. He made that clear the day he blew up L’Manburg. He knew that even before he’d betrayed Technoblade.

Tommy thought he was relatively safe where he was, despite 90% of the SMP hating him, he was almost certain Phil and Techno hadn’t been hunting him. But, apparently, he was wrong. He must’ve wandered too far into the woods, (though he couldn't really remember anything from the last few days) and wandered into Philza’s fucking hut.

He had vaguely recognized the house, but couldn’t place it. He hadn’t exactly studied it either, not when he woke up to Philza standing over him. No, there was only time to try and get out, like every instinct was screaming at him to do.

The landscape he wasn’t as far north as Techno’s farm, but there was still snow on the ground and a chill in the air. He thought he’d been there before but again-he only had time to run- he couldn't be bothered to study the fucking tress. Besides, Tommy couldn't focus. His head ached almost as much as his body and everything was… fuzzy. Wrong. He just needed to get away. He had to fucking hide, before Phil could find him. Tommy, despite what people thought, really didn’t want to die.

His inventory was pitiful, but he had a wooden sword and an old pickax. That would be enough to create a dugout and a few small torches. IT wasn’t much but it was enough to survive the night. It had to be.

Tommy wasn’t sure how far he’d gotten but it probably wasn't far enough, especially if Phil got desperate enough to take to the skies. He didn’t know if he would risk Dream’s wrath by flying though. But, his feet ached and despite how much he’d run recently, he was already winded. His sides ached and his legs struggled to keep under him. How was he so out of shape?

Tommy finally had to stop. He didn't want to. He would die if he did, at the hands of Phil or Techno, but if he kept going the snow would get him first. Maybe Techno Would make it quick? His aching body wouldn’t let him go another step as it stood- not if he wanted a shelter.

. Tommy forced himself to stay upright, as he stumbled against the side of a rock wall. Something about it was familiar, like everything else, but Tommy wasn’t sure what. He didn’t care. The area wasn’t ideal but he couldn’t bring himself to try and craft. He swung his pickaxe, forcing his shaking arms to dig a shallow dugout on the side of the rock wall. It was tiny, only a few blocks wide and two tall, but it was enough. It would keep the zombies out. He lit one of his torches and rebuilt the wall. He hated staring at the blank stone wall in front of him, too much like Pogtopia and all those weeks without sunlight, but he couldn’t afford to be caught. And he was tired. He was so fucking tired.

Tommy shivered against the cold stone rock wall. He needed to stay awake, just in case Phil managed to find his hideout, needed to be ready to fight, but he was cold. And tired, and everything felt wrong. Tommy was sure that he could figure it out if only he could focus, but everything was fuzzy and fading fast.

Maybe a nap would help, Tommy thought distantly, a nap sounded nice.


	2. some sign of life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh, another 1 am update. oops. To be honest this may have typos. I don't think so but after the amount of time I've stared at this, I'm not sure. 
> 
> Also, how have I gotten more kudos and hits on this fic in 48 hours than I have on my other most popular fic (on my real account) that's been up for nearly a year. Wild. I am loving all the feedback though! Please let me know what you think! Also, sorry if this is a bit filler-ish, ut it moved the plot. The next chapter should feature more on Tommy himself and even more angst. 
> 
> Enjoy please!

Wilbur wasn’t panicking. 

Wilbur Soot didn’t panic. He was a rational adult, who had a well-stocked inventory, excellent tracking skills, and decent enough skills with the diamond sword that hung at his hip. He was hunting his 14-year-old brother, who had practically no inventory and years less experience. Wilbur knew Tommy like the back of his hand- it shouldn’t be hard to find him, especially not when their Dad was looking too. 

Panic, like Dad always said, never helped anyone. Keeping a clear mind did. So Wilbur was certain that it was just a symptom of the cold, that caused his hands to shake as he trudged through the snow, straining to see Tommy’s fast-fading footsteps, as more snow blew in and the dark drew nearer. 

The dark meant mobs. Wilbur wasn’t particularly scared of them, not himself. He could take almost anything (except an enderman) even without his armour. Probably, But Tommy was just a kid, with no armour, no shoes, and at best his wooden sword that was only marginally better than a training sword. Loud, reckless Tommy, who was so stupid, yet so smart, who could be halfway to anywhere- 

Wilbur forced himself to stop that train of thought. He couldn’t panic. Wouldn’t. Not even as the tracks he’d been searching for desperately had vanished completely under the rising layers of snow. It was too dark and too snowy to really track Tommy. Wilbur swallowed hard past the lump in his throat

“Tommy” Wilbur called, “Tommy, where are you?” 

He didn’t really think it would work, not when Phil said Tommy was out of his mind, but Wilbur didn’t really have any other ideas, and giving up wasn’t an option. “Tommy!” he shouted again and waited a moment, straining to hear anything that could be his brother. Nothing. Wilbur pulled his coat tighter and moved on. 

“Tommy!”  
\---  
Wilbur had lost track of the exact time, in the dim woods, but based on the light he could see, it had to be near sunset, meaning he’d been scouring the woods for nearly four hours, and was no close to finding Tommy. The snow had completely erased his tracks and so far, Wilbur had seen no signs of downed trees or carved out rocks, but with the rocky hills rising on each side it was hard to see everything. 

Wilbur had stopped calling for Tommy, mostly just listening, because he doubted Tommy could even hear him/ Not to mention, Wilbur couldn’t shout anymore, even breathing hurt as the cold air bit at his raw throat. His legs ached from the cold and the steep terrain, but he kept going. Tommy was out here, somewhere. And when Wilbur found him and made sure he was safe, he would kick his ass, for pulling this stunt.  
How stupid could Tommy be, running off into the woods? Going against everything they’d ever been taught? What was he thinking? But according to Dad, Tommy hadn’t been thinking, he’d been seeing things. 

Wilbur had no idea what he was seeing- what he could still be seeing. And if reality was falling away… Wilbur clenched his shaky hands. HE couldn’t afford to think like that. He needed to focus on looking for Tommy. 

Wilbur thought he was still following Tommy’s footsteps, but it was more along the lines of a faint indention in the snow, winding through the trees. Honestly, it could have been made by a fox, but…. That simply wasn’t an option. This had to be Tommy’s trail. 

But the snow was still falling fast and the think canopy of trees hung overhead, minimizing the light further. Wilbur tried not to think of what would happen once the sun slipped behind the horizon. Tommy would be alone. He hoped that he might have at least found shelter. Wilbur would have to stop soon and do the same. 

He was a useless fighter, especially at night. He could take a few zombies normally, but when his had s ached from the cold and exhaustion was already sitting heavy on his shoulders… Wilbur was no Technoblade (not that he had ever been allowed to forget that). He would have to stop looking for Tommy. Useless. 

He’d be more useless dead, though. 

He trekked on for a few minutes, but night was falling. He needed shelter. Wilbur forced himself to tear his gaze away from the footsteps he was hoping were in the snow to survey his surroundings and he landed a rocky outcropping to his left that was a little too small to be a mountain, considering it for the night’s rest. A dirt shack on top would suffice until moring could come.

A flicker of… something caught Wilber’s eye. He wasn’t sure what it was- not an animal- but something was on that outcropping. He squinted, staring up at the rocky expanse when finally, it caught his eye. It was the flicker of a torch. 

Well, it was a rock wall, hastily thrown up, with a large enough gap for a little light to come out. Someone, someone was in that rock wall. 

Wilbur suddenly wasn’t tired. He sprinted to the outcropping, sheathing his sword as he scrambled up the uneven rocks that littered the side as fast as he could. some of the rocks seemed to have been placed by someone else trying to climb up, away from the cold ground. His heart thundered in his chest as he came to a gasping stop on the ledge by the shoddy wall. 

Wilbur went for his pickaxe but hesitated. This… wasn’t necessarily Tommy. It could be a stranger. aNd even if it was Tommy… would he even know Wilbur? If he didn’t know Dad...  
Wilbur heard a soft twang and before he could react, something hit his shoulder with enough force that he stumbled forward. Somewhere below him, there was the telltale clang of bones. Skeleton, a distant part of his brain supplied a skeleton was shooting at him. 

But, that part was overshadowed by the blistering pain blooming in his shoulder, which felt like it had been set on fire. A scream ripped its way out of Wilbur’s raw throat as he fell heavily against the wall, narrowly avoiding an arrow aimed at his head. 

He needed to get behind the wall before the skeleton killed him. 

He pulled out his pickaxe and forced himself to swing it, even as he screamed through gritted teeth at the pain burning in his right shoulder. The wall collapsed and Wilbur practically tumbled in. Another arrow embedded itself beside Wilbur’s ear. It was halfway up the embankment and Wilbur, even over the thundering of his heart could hear the moans of a zombie. Wilbur allowed the pickaxe to drop as he picked up the rock. His arms shook violently as he heaved the rock back in place. 

It wasn’t much but it would hold for a moment. Wilbur slid to the ground sitting down heavily, looking in for the first time. 

The pain made it hard to focus, but it couldn’t stop the sheer relief that flooded his system when he saw Tommy curled in the corner, chest rising and falling. Had he not been on the floor, Wilbur would have collapsed. Tommy was alive. A sob ripped its way out of Wilbur’s chest, somewhere between pain and sweet relief. 

With shaky hands, Wilbur reached into his inventory to see what he had with him. He only had one potion and nothing else. He hadn’t bothered to take any that morning and in the panic after, he hadn’t thought to grab anything else. Stupid. Wilbur’s gaze wandered over to his brother. Tommy was still breathing, but the rise and fall of his chest was too shallow, Wilbur could see that through even the haze of pain. He would go to him, but first… 

With his left hand, he grabbed the arrow as close to his throbbing shoulder as he dared. He took a deep breath and used all the force he could muster to snap the arrow. He screamed into his hat as his vision whited out for a moment. Every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire. The cold floor of the cave was gone, replaced by just pain, from every angle. Then, for a moment there was nothing. The pain eased, finally, and Wilbur’s vision finally cleared. The end of the shaft was on the ground beside him, apparently dropped at some point. Ender, that hurt like a bitch. 

He’d never been really shot before and hoped to never be again. 

Wilbur looked at the potion sitting beside him. His shoulder ached and the blood had already seeped through his coat, he could feel the stickiness on his fingers. He attempted to wipe it on his shirt before grabbing the potion. Even drinking all of it wouldn’t heal him, but it would stop the worst of the bleeding. 

He fumbled with the cork- his fingers were still numb and the pain only made the tremors running through his hands worse. He managed to get it off and brought the vial up to his chapped lips. Wilbur took a swig, allowing the cool blue liquid to trickle down his throat. The effect wasn’t much but it was nearly instant. The pain in his shoulder eased slightly, from white-hot to a slightly duller throb. His head cleared slightly, and he studied the bottle, before drinking the rest of it. The pain didn’t change much, but he could feel the blood flow slow ot a trickle, then nearly stop. It wasn’t anywhere near healed- that would just take time and a better medic than Wilbur, but it was functional. Now, Tommy. The kid hadn’t stirred once since Wilbur had busted in. Something cold twisted in Wilbur’s gut.

Wilbur forced himself to his feet- steadier than he’d been earlier, but still far from stable- and shuffled to where Tommy was curled up in the corner, wooden sword resting by his side. He was shivering violently, Wilbur could see that now that he was so close. Wilbur gently grabbed Tommy’s arm. Tommy didn’t stir but Wilbur’s heart dropped at how cold Tommy felt.

That… was not good. 

Wilbur frowned. He didn’t have the stuff to build a big fire- besides that wouldn’t be safe in such as small room- and no healing potions. He studied Tommy’s outfit- it was just a plain t-shirt and jeans. He didn’t even have on shoes. 

Wilbur shrugged his good shoulder out of his coat, before trying to gently pull it off the other side. The fabric caught on the stub or arrow still lodged into his shoulder and for a moment, everything was blank again as white-hot pain ran through Wilbur’s body. 

Ender, that hurt. He panted for a moment as the pain faded a bit, then forced the jacket the rest of the way off. Wilbur was taller than Tommy, to the point that when he draped the bloody coat over him, it practically swallowed him. 

It wasn’t much, but it would have to suffice. 

Wilbur lowered himself down onto the ground, allowing his head to rest against the cold wall, trying to avoid moving his shoulder. He had no idea what time it was, or how long he’d been blacked out, but morning would come soon enough. The mobs he could hear outside would be gone, and he could figure out where he was, and how to get both of them home. 

\--- 

Philza had spent the night on the ground, fighting off mobs and attempting to track Wilbur’s footsteps. He’d long given up on his attempt to follow Tommy through the tree- he would have to be on the ground to try and catch up with Wilbur. But, he hadn’t even managed that and spent the night fending off mobs, hoping that his sons were safe. By morning, the mobs had left enough tracks that Phil had no idea what belonged to Wilbur or a zombie. 

Fear couldn’t touch what he was feeling. 

Phil wasn’t sure what the best choice would be He could check the house- Perhaps Tommy had gotten back, and was in the house. Perhaps both kids were there and he’d get to chew them out for not signaling him, or using their- 

Phil flinched in surprise as he heard something explode off in the distance. IT didn’t sound like a creeper or TNT, but rather fireworks. In a server that rarely had communication lines working, that was their signal. It had to be Wilbur. 

He used his axe to slice through the trees above him, and took off straight up, flapping his aching wings. He could see the smoke fading off in the distance and flew frantically, eyes locked on the fading smoke. Soon enough, he could see the small form of Wilbur standing on top of a rocky hill and somethign eased slightly in his chest, with proof that at least one of his sons was still alive. 

“Did you find him?” The words were tumbling out of Phil’s mouth before his feet hit even the ground. 

“Yes.”Wilbur said and nodded towards the rockface below “He dug himself a little hole in there last night, it seems.” 

Phil let out a deep sigh and forced himself to stay upright. His knees were weak with relief. “Is he alright?” 

Wilbur hesitated, then attempted to shrug. It was at that point Phil noticed the bloodstain on Wilbur’s shirt. His stomach twisted, at that he hadn’t already noticed the frankly large stain on Wilbur’s grey sweater “Wil. are you, alright son? What happened?” 

Wilbur shook his head “I’m fine. Skeleton clipped me with an arrow. WE can deal with it later. Tommy… Tommy doesn’t look liek he has any injuries but I think he might be hypothermic.” Phil could hear the fear in Wilbur’s voice- he could feel that same cold panic still banded around its heart. It hadn’t really let go in nearly two days, not since that endere-damned enderman attack. 

“Alright, Well we need to get him home. Luckily, Tommy managed to make almost a circle. If we can get to the other side of that mountain, we’ll be only a mile from home. You can’t see it from here, though” Phil said as he pointed in the general direction of their home. It was pure luck that Tommy had somehow managed to double back as much as he did. Though, it was somehow even more worrying that Tommy, who spent hours in these very woods, hadn’t realized his surroundings. 

The trip still wouldn’t be easy- especially since Wilbur wouldn’t be able to help support Tommy. Tommy wasn’t particularly heavy, but he was already taller than Phil himself and lanky. But, Phil would carry him every step of the way if he had to. There was no other option.  
“Let’s get going.” Wilbur said “I don't want to spend another night out here. And I don’t think Tommy could take it.”

Phil swallowed down his worry, once again. He’d have time to worry about it after everyone was safe and home. “Alright son, let’s do it.” 

\--  
Two grueling hours later, their cabin came into sight. Phil had never been quite so relieved to see the structure he’d built nearly three decades ago. 

Tommy had remained completely unresponsive the whole trek, and PHilza was forced to carry him. Between that and Wilbur’s injury (which Phil suspected was far worse than Wil was letting on) it had taken them hours to transverse something that might have only taken them thirty minutes normally. 

It was agony, knowing that Phil was so close to home, but that there was nothing he could truly do for his sons until he got them home and got them warm. Especially Tommy. He tried to keep it together for Wilbur, but something was seriously wrong with Tommy. He shouldn’t have gotten hypothermic so fast and should have at least shown some response to touch. But there was nothing. 

That, however, was not defeat. Phil had traveled many placed and had many items. If he had to force-feed Tommy all the golden apples he had, then so be it. 

“Come on Wilbur.” He called to his son, who was straggling behind him. “ we’re almost home.” 

Phil would be damned if the cold took Tommy's first life.


	3. I feel like I might fade into the dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy is lost in his own head. Philza tries to deal with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3. This is like, all angst. There is nothing happy here tbh. Sorry. Also, this is, if you didn't know, a weird mashup of Minecraft and real-life rules. There is no real rhyme or reason to what I choose lol. Please enjoy, I promise that Tommy will wake up and there will be comfort with the hurt eventually.

_ Tommy was nine and sitting on an oak tree branch just above Wilbur’s head. Tommy remembered that day. They were supposed to be doing… something. Maybe mining, just on the edges of the cave, or harvesting flowers for dye. It was springtime and finally getting warm enough that he didn’t have to wear the stupid coat that either Wilbur, Techno, or Dad forced him into. Coats were boring, and Techno didn’t have to wear one. Whatever. He didn’t have to wear one for chores today. Whatever those were supposed to be.  _

_ Tommy honestly hadn’t paid attention at the time and Wilbur had snuck his guitar out of the house. Besides, listening to Wilbur play was way more interesting than doing any chores, except maybe cutting down trees, which Tommy wasn’t allowed to do yet. Lame.  _

_ Of course, listening to Wilbur play was only because he didn’t have anything else better to do. Their dad had taken the training sword he’d managed to craft (also lame, or as he’d heard Wilbur say, fucking stupid.) and the animals he’d tried to play with all ran away. Since they were so far from the house, he wasn’t allowed out of Wilbur’s sight and after he nearly fell down a ravine, he wasn’t allowed out of the tree either, despite his protests. So, Wilbur’s music was his only source of entertainment.  _

_ And Wilbur wasn’t bad. But even as nice as the last fifteen minutes had been, sitting there listening to birds and Wilbur’s guitar, Tommy wanted Wilbur to really play, not just strum. “Play something more interesting,” Tommy whined, unable to take it any longer. He slid down so that he was dangling upside down from the branch, legs hooked over the thick branch. _

_ Wilbur was facing the other direction, but Tommy heard him groan “I was concentrating Tommy. You made me lose the melody damn it.”  _

_ Tommy made a face, sticking his tongue out. It felt weird, hanging upside down “Well, it was a boring melody. Play a fun song!” Tommy’s head hurt so he pulled himself back up “Not a lame new melody.”  _

_ “No Tommy, I’m not going to play a fun song,” Wilbur said, turning to face him. Tommy nearly fell out of the tree. Wilbur was suddenly wearing the dark, tattered coat from the days of Pogtopia and deep bags hung under his eyes.  _

_ Suddenly Wilbur grabbed Tommy’s leg and yanked hard, pulling him out of the tree. Tommy screeched in surprise and pain as he landed harshly on the ground. “Wilbur, wait-” _

_ “You never are happy with anything, are you?” Wilbur hissed, getting right up in Tommy’s face “Never satisfied, always wanting more, more, more. Never caring about anyone but Tommy. It was always about what you wanted.”  _

_ Tommy tried to scramble back, but Wilbur simply yanked him back and pinned him to the ground. “No, wait, please.” Tommy begged “I-”  _

_ “You know, I was glad when Phil killed me.” Wilbur’s voice was dripping with distaste and his brown eyes burned with insanity like they had the day of the festival. He was pale and his hands were ice cold. “Not just because L’Manburg was gone, no I could still hear your stupid fucking _

_ voice, screaming outside. I couldn’t bear to live one more enderdamned minute with you. I wanted to die, rather than spend another minute alive with you.”  _

_ “No, please, stop, please. That isn’t true, that isn’t true, it-” Tommy begged, still struggling beneath his iron grip “I’m sorry, please, Wil-.” _

_ “You’re not sorry,” Wilbur said, practically shouting now. “You’re never sorry. You’re only sorry you face consequences. And now that I’m here, I’m going to make sure that no one ever has to deal with your selfish, stupid, idiocy again.”  _

_ Tommy tried to scream, but Wilbur’s icy hands wrapped around his neck, and sudden;y Tommy was drowning from the inside out, water bubbling up in his lungs. He tried to claw the icy hands from him, tried to cough the liquid out but it just seemed to keep coming, keep rising, icy grip locked around his neck. Wilbur’s eyes, brown and blazing burned straight through him with nothing but rage.  _

_ Tommy coughed and choked, desperately trying to draw a breath into his lungs, but there was nothing but pain, and the sound of Wilbur’s maniacal laughter above him.  _

_ Then, there was nothing.  _

\---- 

  
  


With a strangled noise, Tommy suddenly went slack under Philza’s grip. Phil let out a deep sigh, only partially in relief as he released his hold on Tommy, gently laying him back onto the bed. He’d been trying to get a healing potion down Tommy’s throat, but Tommy had fought him every moment of the way. 

“Dad?” Wilbur murmured, appearing in the door, looking a little dazed, “What happened?” 

It was the middle of the night- Phil wasn’t sure what time exactly- and Wilbur had been sleeping since the afternoon before, once his shoulder wound had been taken care of. Phil had dozed, sleeping fitfully in chairs, mostly attending to his sons. 

Tommy’s screams must have woken him up. It would be hard not to. Phil wasn’t sure if he would ever get the sounds of his son’s absolutely panicked screams out of his head. Tommy was far from coherent but Phil could hear the half sobs, half screams echoing in his mind.  _ “No, please, stop, please.”  _

“I had to give Tommy a healing potion. Seems he’s recovered enough to try and fight me, even unconsciously.” Phil said, forcing his voice to be lighter than if felt. Wilbur didn’t need to know exactly what happened. He didn’t need to know that Tommy hadn’t just beem begging for mercy, he’d been begging Wilbur to stop. “Just go back to sleep son.” 

“I’m not tired,” Wilbur lied. Phil could see the exhaustion in Wilbur’s eyes and the slump of his good shoulder. “I want to stay up.”

Wilbur was also stubborn, unfortunately, and Phil could see the certain set in his jaw. “Alright, son,” Phil said, slowly rising from the edge of Tommy’s bed. “I just gave him the potion, so he can’t have any more until tomorrow. Just sit with him, but be careful. He’s still out of his head. If anything happens, come get me.”    


Wilbur nodded quietly, settling into the chair beside Tommy’s bed. He pulled the quilt off the floor where it had fallen during Tommy’s struggle. Phil let his gaze linger a moment before pulling the door halfway closed. Normally Phil would sleep downstairs in the small bedroom by the door, but that was too far away from Tommy and Wilbur if something went wrong. He settled instead for dragging a chair from Wilbur’s room into the hallway. He settled down into the soft chair and allowed his eyes to close for just a moment, as he listened to Tommy’s uneven rasps and Wilbur’s light breathing from the other side of the wall. 

\----

_ When Tommy emerged from the darkness, he was ten. He was out in the woods again, his favorite ones that rested just south of the house, with tall trees and flower beds. This time Tommy was hiding behind one of the big trees, tucked into the base of the tree, trying to breathe quietly.  _

_ Mid Morning sunlight filtered down through the leaves, casting a nice _

_ He strained, listening for the telltale sound of footsteps. He was playing hide and seek with his brothers and Tubbo. He wasn’t sure who was seeking.  _

_ “Tommy,” a voice floated down, coming from a direction Tommy could quite pick out “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”  _

_ Tommy pressed against the tree further, trying to make himself small. That wasn’t Wilbur’s voice and certainly wasn’t Tubbo. It was like the sound of a sword dragging against a whetstone. It was ice pellets falling from the sky, digging into his skin. It was the voice of someone who’d tried to kill him.  _

_ “Tommy,” The voice called again, now much, much closer, and much much scarier. “Tommy, I know you’re there.” Technoblade “You’re useless at hiding, why even try?”  _

_ Tommy squeezed his eyes shut, praying that Technoblade was bluffing (The Blade was never buffing) and then there was hot breath on his neck.  _

_ “Run”  _

_ Tommy ran the echo of Technoblade’s laughter on his heels.  _

\----

“Dad.” Philza’s head jerked up, startling him from the fire he’d been kindling downstairs. It had died earlier when Phil had accidentally fallen asleep at the kitchen table after cleaning up the stew. 

“Is something wrong, son?” Phil asked. Had Tommy gotten worse? Had Tommy woken up? He couldn’t hear any screaming. “What time is it?” 

“It’s almost midnight, I think.” Wilbur averted his gaze “I… I accidentally dozed off a few hours ago.” 

“It’s alright,” Phil said, finally relaxing “Is Tommy…” 

“Still unconscious.” Wilbur said, and Phil couldn’t help but frown “he… he hasn’t screamed since this morning when you were up there, but he’s still burning up with a fever, and he keeps muttering under his breath but I can’t tell what he’s saying.” 

Phil’s frown deepened. Two days since they’d been home, and Tommy had gone from freezing to burning up sometime in the first night and his fever hadn’t broken since, even with the full healing potion that Phil had forced down his throat the first night

“Well, at least he isn’t hurting himself.” Or trying to hurt someone else. Phil had long scratches down his arm from earlier, when he’d been forced to restrain Tommy when he’d fallen into another one of his mind terrors. “If you don’t mind sitting with him for a few more minutes I’ll go fix something for us to eat. Then you can get some real rest.” 

Wilbur nodded. “Alright, I can do that.” Wilbur shuffled back towards the stairs and Phil felt his shoulders slump. He hadn’t expected Tommy’s fever to break, but he supposed it was a hope. Tommy’s fever needed to break. Tommy needed to get better, but it seemed like every day he got worse instead. His breathing seemed to get more labored and earlier Phil had heard a terrible rattle in Tommy’s chest. He hadn’t pointed it out to Wilbur, trying not to worry him. Wilbur alternated between vanishing into thin air, when Tommy’s screams got too loud and hovering at Tommy’s bedside, trying to bring his fever down. 

He and Wilbur, especially Wilbur who was still recovering from the wound in his shoulder, needed food, though. They couldn’t help Tommy if they were passed out. 

He grimaced as he stood, wings twinging at the movement. Phil had only spent a few hours in an actual bed the last few days, and chairs were not kind to his wings, especially not after the amount of abuse they’d taken prior. 

He rummaged through his kitchen chest, looking for something simple. There wasn’t much in there, Phil noticed, he’d have to go into the storage beneath the house, the main one, filled with chest after chest of random things. Bread of course wouldn’t keep, but dried meat and vegetables did and Phil had saved plenty over the years. He’d have to go bring some up later. 

He took a loaf of bread and some dried meat, making sandwiches for both himself and Wilbur. It wasn’t much but it would do. 

Phil hesitated as he looked around the kitchen. It wasn’t safe to give Tommy another healing potion so soon after the last one, even though it had been two days since the first dose. He’d seen first hand the effects of too much magic on a human’s body. 

It wasn’t pretty. Their wound had healed, sure, but there was too much magic in their system for their human body to handle. They’d burnt up from the inside out within 12 hours, screaming in agony, even as their skin stayed pristine and perfect. His boys knew the dangers. He’d made sure that if nothing else, they never had too many options. 

Golden Apples were somewhat better but dangerously addictive. Phil himself hadn’t touched a golden apple in nearly 20 years, not since Wilbur had come into his life, followed shortly by Technoblade. They worked wonders and wouldn’t kill you, not outright anyway. But they certainly lowered your inhibition and lowered your senses. Phil kept a single stack, tucked away in his enderchest, that he collected over the years. 

He wasn’t that desperate yet, though. The last thing they needed was Tommy recovering from… whatever this was, only to immediately be forced into withdrawal. Withdrawals weren’t pretty- Phil knew that far more intimately than he wished.

Maybe after he and Wilbur ate, he could scrounge up enough for a light broth to force Tommy to eat. It wasn’t fun but Tommy had to eat, had to keep his health up. 

Phi put the two sandwiches on a plate and sighed as he stared out his kitchen window at the pale moon over the trees. This… wasn’t good. Philza had seen hypothermia before, many times. He’d had it himself, though as a hybrid, it worked a little differently but had been everywhere and seen everything. Tommy, despite the amount of time he was in the cold, shouldn’t have been so sick, should he? Not to mention the screaming. 

That wasn’t a nightmare- Phil knew nightmare. He’d found all of his sons in the middle of the night as they sobbed from nightmares and offered them the comfort he could. This was not what nightmares looked like for Tommy. 

This was something different. 

Tommy was not related to Technoblade by blood, but they had no idea who Tommy’s family was. He appeared human, but Philza really had no clue. He’d never worried before, but…. 

Technoblade had always heard the ‘Chat’ as he called it, but the voices hadn’t turned extremely violent until he turned nine.( Until Phil took him back into the nether for the first time ). Those first few weeks, when the voices got louder had been terrible. Phil could still hear Technoblade’s sobs as he begged them to stop. Techno had spent nearly three days in a half-conscious state. It wasn’t the same thing, but there were enough similarities that Phil was forced to consider the question:

What if Tommy was the same somehow? 

What if something had been unlocked in Tommy’s mind that no one else could hear or see? 

Phil reached for his emergency communicator. 

\--- 

_ Tommy was still running. He wasn’t sure why anymore. It was just darkness. His chest burned so badly he could hardly draw a breath. His body ached, but he still had to run. If he ever stopped, ever rested, it was only a matter of time until hands were on him, grabbing him, pulling him, trying to get him.  _

_ Tommy ran.  _

\---- 

On a server far, far away, the winner of the potato wars and rising blood god woke up to the voices in his head screaming. 

“Chat,” he muttered groggily “Chat. Please, stop screaming. I’m tryin’ to sleep. What’s wrong.” 

They were screaming, to the point, Technoblade could hardly see straight in the dim light of his house. For once they didn’t seem to be screaming for blood, (not most of them, anyhow) but they just seemed to be screaming, each individual voice with their own call. 

He didn’t seem to be in danger- the Chat was always more coordinated then- so he wasn't sure what was happening. “Please,” he groaned ”Please, I don’t know what you want.” 

There was a swell of noise so bad that he dug his nails tightly into his scalp before it died back to a far more manageable level. 

The general consensus, barring those calling for blood or potatoes, was that he had received a message from Phil. “Mail doesn’t run at night Chat” Techno countered. Phil’s latest letter couldn’t be here- he’d checked the day before. 

He winced as the voices swelled again, all shouting at him to check in his communicator, which made no sense. It was practically impossible to get a cross-server message out of the one Phil lived in. Nonetheless, Chat was insistent so he reached for the small device laying beside his bed. 

Techno froe, when sure enough, a message from Philza was flashing on his screen. Tendrils of cold fear crawled up his spine and only years of training kept his hands steady. The price of one of these messages was astronomical. If Phil had deemed it necessary… Technoblade wished that the voices would shut up. Everyone was fine. 

Techno opened the message and read it once, then again, then a third time, just to be sure he was reading it correctly. 

_ “Tommy is sick. He might be like you. Come home. We need you.”  _

That was it. No context, no further information. What could Phil mean, Tommy was like him? Tommy was  _ human _ . Tommy was just a kid. Chat screamed. 

Technoblade was long gone by the time the morning sun rose. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technoblade has entered the Chat. 
> 
> (if it wasn't clear, Tommy is struggling more due to the fact he time travel. It weakened him so he was more susceptible to illness.)
> 
> I am loving the comments and feedback! If you have something to say, say it!


	4. fire, help me forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tommy, come on,” Tubbo said, laughing like he was telling a joke. “This is all in your head. Sometimes you think too much. I mean, not always. You could think some of your decisions through a little more sometimes, you know?” 
> 
> \---   
> Tommy wakes up and Tubbo makes an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not well. I wrote this in under 24 hours. send help.

**_TommyInnit tried to swim in lava_ ** _.  _

_ The darkness took him again, after whoever was chasing him (Technoblade? Dream? Philza? He couldn’t remember) chased him all the way into the nether. He hadn’t seen their face, but whoever it was- whatever it was, it was _ bad. 

_ He had slipped and fallen (falling falling falling), the darkness consuming him, just before he hit the scorching lava _ . 

_ There was darkness again and only flashes of other things.  _

_ Hands on his head and something cold, hands against his face, holding his arm, pinning him down. He tried to get away because hands on him never meant anything good.  _

_ They meant he would be hurt. They meant blood and bruises and a gentle touch only after they took away everything you had.  _

_ He could never fight them long, never really awake, still trapped under a later of darkness, before he was pulled back under.  _

_ There were voices, low and uttering. Low humming. Rustling wings. Tommy could never force his eyes open for more than a second. And even then he only saw Wilbur’s face taunting him. , Despite how desperately he wanted to get out of the dark. It clung to his mind, exhaustion clung to his body. The Darkness claimed him each time.  _

_ Nothing was real. Everything was real. Tommy was  _ tired _.  _

\--- 

Wilbur had traded his position by Tommy’s bed with his dad around half an hour ago, just around 9 in the morning. Wilbur wanted to sleep, but the sheep needed feeding and while Phil hadn’t asked him, he would do it.

Wilbur wasn’t stupid. He could see the exhausted slump in Phil’s shoulders and wings. He could see the fear, too. It had been five days since Tommy had first vanished into the woods and a little over three since they’d been home. Tommy had never truly regained any semblance of consciousness. 

He only slept fitfully, tossing and turning as he saw… something in his head. Wilbur didn’t know what was happening, but it was even worse when the screaming started. Tommy sometimes screamed- no words, just creaming. Normally it started with increased muttering. Wilbur had made a mistake, the first time it happened, by touching Tommy. Instead of offering comfort, Tommy just screamed at Wilbur’s touch. Phil had had to restrain him to keep him from throwing himself off the bed. 

His fever had finally dropped some around three am. It hadn’t broken, but it seemed to ease into a far more manageable territory, despite the awful they’d had trying to force a bit of broth down his throat. After his fever dropped, he’d calmed some. He certainly wasn’t sleeping peacefully, but he was, at times, at least getting a semblance of restful sleep. However, there was no guarantee that would hold. 

Wilbur didn’t want to admit it, but he was scared. Wilbur was  _ scared _ . Something was seriously wrong and their dad wouldn’t tell him what. Wilbur was twenty man years old. He deserved to know. 

But did he want to? He could probably demand answers from Phil and his dad would cave, telling him everything, because his dad always knew more than he was willing to let on. Those answers though, those theories… did Wilbur want to know? He wasn’t sure. 

He just hated feeling helpless. Wilbur was supposed to be smart. hE was supposed to be the one with the plan. He didn’t have one. He was useless. 

Wilbur was startled from his thoughts by a knock on the front door. Wilbur rose to his feet warily. He didn’t pull his sword out but was ready (What are you going to do, a voice whispered, swing it wildly at them with a messed up shoulder? You couldn’t protect your family if you wanted to) 

Wilbur opened the door just a crack and slumped in relief when he saw it was just Tubbo. 

“Hello Wilbur,” Tubbor said, fidgeting nervously. 

“Good morning Tubbo,” Wilbur said, trying for a smile. He was pretty sure it failed. “Do you need something?” 

Tubbo wouldn’t quite make eye contact with Wilbur. “Well, I hadn’t heard from Tommy or anyone else in a couple of days, so I got a bit worried. Is everyone alright?” 

Wilbur felt a twinge of guilt. Tubbo was Tommy’s best friend and kind of like a bonus brother for Wilbur. The kid didn’t have much support at home, and he spent tons of time with Tommy. Of course, he was worried that he hadn’t seen his best friend in almost a week. 

“Tommy…” Wilbur wasn’t sure how to say it gently. There  _ wasn’t  _ a gentle way to say it. “Tommy isn’t doing great, Tubbo. He’s very sick.” 

Tubbo’s face paled a few degrees. “Is he going to be ok?” 

Wilbur stared helplessly “I.. I don’t know Tubbo. I hope so, but I don’t know.” 

Tubbo looked positively green and Wilbur felt bad. Ender, he couldn’t even comfort a kid. “Can I see him?” 

“Tubbo, Tommy’s very ill. He’s not awake and-” 

“Please, Wilbur? I.. I can take it. I want to see him.” Tubbo practically begged. Tubbo was so small. So much smaller than Tommy, even though Tubbo was older. Wilbur couldn’t blame the kid though. Their family was basically all the kid had. They should’ve told him earlier. Useless. 

Wilbur hesitated. “Come on in Tubbo, and have a seat. There’s an extra baked potato on the counter you can have while you wait. Let me go ask Dad ok?” 

Tubbo’s eyes were welled with tears, but he nodded determinedly “Okay.” 

Wilbur left Tubbo sitting at the kitchen table and made his way to Tommy’s room. The room was dark- Phil had boarded up the window to keep the cold out. And, probably to keep Tommy in. “Tubbo’s here,” Wilbur whispered lowly as he came into the room. “He wants to see Tommy.” 

“Did you tell him that Tommy was ill?” Phil whispered back. There seemed to be a permanent frown etched into his face these days. 

“Yes.” Wilbur said, “Tubbo insisted he still wanted to.” 

Phil sighed heavily. “Well, his fever dropped last night, I think. He seems to be resting a little peacefully. As long as one of us stays in the house. I don’t see why Tubbo can’t sit with him.” 

“I’ll let him know,” 

\----

_ Tommy was 16 and Dream had a crossbow to Tubbo’s head, down in the vault, ready to take Tubbo’s final life.  _

_ “No.” Tommy croaked. His voice was barely above a whisper, raw from the crying “Tubbo, no!”  _

_ “Begging doesn’t help Tommy.” Dream said in that enderdamned playful tone of his “You know that.”  _

_ “Please,” Tommy said, “Please I’ll do anything. Anything. Please, just leave him alone.”  _

_ “Tommy,” Dream’s voice was patronizing like he was talking to a small child. “ This only makes it worse.” And Tommy tried to argue tried to yell, scream, shout, something, but nothing came out. Drema had taken his voice.  _

_ Then there was the telltale twang of a crossbow shot and the sound of an arrow hitting flesh. Tommy couldn’t even scream as his best friend died, on the cold floor of Dream’s vault. No one came through the portal. No one saved them. He still couldn’t scream. It was just Dream and Tommy and the blood pooling on the floor between them.  _

_ “Oh Tommy,” Dream said and the sound of his voice echoed in Tommy’shead as the darkness claimed him again.  _

_ \--  _

_ Tommy found himself outside next, in a scene directly contradicting what he saw last. He was sitting there with Rubbo at his side as the music played softly. They were waiting on the sunrise. It was nice. Tubbo was just beside him and the air was pleasant, not cold not hot, just… nice.  _

_ Tommy wasn’t sure how he got there. He found he had a voice again.  _

_ “Tubbo?” Tommy said to his best friend- his living and breathing best friend- and his voice shook. “What…?”  _

_ “We won,” Tubbo said simply, smiling at him like Tommy hadn’t just watched him die. “Tommy, we’re safe.”  _

_ “How?”  _

_ “Oh, that doesn’t matter.”Tubbo said lightly “ None of this is real anyhow.”  _

_ “What?”  _

_ “Tommy, come on,” Tubbo said, laughing like he was telling a joke. “This is all in your head. Sometimes you think too much. I mean, not always. You could think some of your decisions through a little more sometimes, you know?”  _

_ “Hold on, hold on, hold on, this isn’t real? Tommy stated, “But it feels so…”  _

_ “Real?” Tubbo supplied “These things always do, at first. But look, Tommy, really look. How does this feel? How does this look? How does it smell?”  _

_ “I’m not going to smell-”  _

_ “Tommy,” Tubbo admonished gently “Come on, just focus. Don’t argue for once.. Close your eyes. Use your senses Toms ”  _

_ Tommy glared at Tubbo but tried to do as he said. “I don’t smell anything, Tubbo. This is stupid. I don’t feel- “ he froze. He couldn’t feel the bench under him. It as too soft. It felt…. It felt like a bed.”  _

_ “Now you’re feeling it,” Tubbo said and happily, though his voice sounded far away “Now, focus on that Tommy. You need to wake up. Wake up, Tommy. Wake up.” _

_ Tommy squeezed his eyes tightly and woke up.  _

\--- 

Tommy woke up slowly this time, rather than just simply appearing. His eyes slid open slowly, taking in the dim room he was in as his fuzzy mind tried to catch up. The room he was in was wooden- there didn’t appear to be any windows and only one door at the end of the room. 

There was a chest sitting at the end of the room, and there was a jukebox sitting in the corner, though it wasn’t playing any music. It looked familiar. His fuzzy brain tried to place it as he squinted at the room. It looked…. 

It looked like his old bedroom at Phil’s house. 

That was, of course, impossible. That house was gone, according to what Phil told him during the brief time Tommy had lived with Technoblade. Apparently, it had been blown up by a damn creeper and the entire thing had collapsed. At least, Phil had supposed that’s what had happened. No one was living there, not since Tommy and Wilbur left three months after Phil had. 

But, it was almost the exact same as he remembered it, down to the red blanket draped over him. Tommy forced himself into a sitting position, grimacing at the way his aching body protested. Had Phil built this to fuck with him? Tommy turned to the left and froze. In the chair beside his bed was Tubbo. Tubbo, with a yellow blanket over his lap and a sweater that Tommy hadn’t seen since before… since before the first war. More than that, Tubbo’s face was soft and round, and happier than Tommy had seen it in years. And, most damningly, there were no firework scars crisscrossing up his neck and onto the edge of his face. Tubbo looked… young. 

Tommy glanced down at his own arms- the only thing not buried beneath the blanket- and he felt his eyes widen. The scars on his arms from the explosions were gone, and his hands seemed.. Small. His arms were short. Something wasn’t right. He forced himself to swing his legs out from under the covers. He nearly fell as he stood up, not only from the sharp pain in his body, but form the strange center of gravity. Everything looked… lower. He was shorter. 

Tommy’s heart jumped into his throat. What was happening? He thought he was awake, but this couldn’t be real. Nothing could be- 

He started coughing. Loudly and painfully, the coughs wracked his aching body, as he bent over , desperately trying to draw in a breath between the hacks, desperately trying not to wake up whoever was beside his bed. 

It was too late though, even as Tommy finally managed to stifle his coughs.”Tommy?” Tubbo look-alike was awake and sounded… like Tubbo. He jumped up from the chair and TOmmy only refrained from flinching away because he was too busy trying to stay on his feet. THe room was swimming slightly beneath him.. “Tommy, you’re awake!” 

There was joy in Tubbo’s face and voice,  _ real  _ joy. “Are you feeling alright? Why are you long at me like that? What… what are you seeing? Big man?”

Tommy gaped for a moment. He didn’t know how, but that was Tubbo. “What kind of fucking question is that?” Tommy rasped, wincing at the ache in his chest “I see you standing in my damn room” 

Tubbo’s face split into a grin that eased something in Tommy's chest, despite himself. Tubbo, in the end, was the only person he could ever really trust. “I’m so glad you’re awake!” Tubbo exclaimed. He clasped his hands together and looked towards the door “Oh, we’ve all been so worried! I should go-” 

“Wait-” Tommy rasped, hating the hint of desperation in his voice, which sounded strange and slightly high pitched even to his own ears “Tubbo, hold on. What- What’s today’s date?” 

Tubbo’s smile dimmed “Oh, it’s November 20th.” 

“What year?” Tommy pressed. 

“You didn’t sleep for a whole year Tommy,” Tubbo said with a nervous laugh. “Why- oh alright. It’s November 20, XXXX.” 

Tommy’s shaky legs nearly collapsed from under him. Over two years, he was over two fucking years in the past, before he and Wilbur had even discussed leaving for the SMP. He needed to say something or Tubbo would think he was fucking crazy, but his breath was caught in his throat. Tommy leaned against the dresser for support. Dream didn’t know him. The house was still standing. 

“Tommy, are you-” Tubbo started, but the door swung open, cutting him off

Tubbo had never died. No one hated him. And if it was two year prior that meant-

“Tubbo, what’s all this noise about?” 

Time stood still. That voice, he knew that voice. That sounded like- Tommy couldn’t, wouldn't get his hopes up. The voice came closer. “Is everything okay?” 

Tommy could only watch, frozen, as Wilbur walked through the door, alive and well. “Tommy’s awake!” Tubbo supplied helpfully as if Wilbur wasn’t already staring at Tommy, with nothing but concern in his eyes. 

“Tommy, how are you feeling?” Wilbur asked carefully. Tommy normally would have frowned but he was too busy just staring at Wilbur- a Wilbur who was alive, well, and hadn’t been touched by madness yet. “Tommy?” Wilbur took a cautious step forward, hands up like he was approaching a wild animal. Wilbur was alive. 

Wilbur was alive and was still his brother. Tommy, in true fashion, didn’t think. He couldn’t. He simply threw himself at Wilbur, wrapping him into a hug. 

\-- 

Wilbur stumbled back, unprepared for Tommy to launch himself at him. He bit down a hiss of pain as Tommy jostled his still-healing shoulder and wrapped an arm around Tommy who, despite being on his feet, still looked bad. His legs were shaking- Wilbur could feel Tommy’s whole body shaking. Tommy’s arms were wrapped around him so tightly Wilbur could hardly breathe. Using his good arm, he wrapped Tommy in a hug, allowing the younger boy to bury his face into Wilbur’s sweater. 

At least Tommy seemed to know who he was, even if a display of affection like this was entirely out of character. It was weird, but Wilbur wasn’t going to try and pry him off- he wasn’t sure he could if he wanted to. 

Tubbo was staring at them with wide eyes, frozen in shock at Tommy’s outburst. 

“Go get dad.” Wilbur mouthed to him, and Tubbo nodded dumbly as he squeezed past them quietly, vanishing out the door. 

He allowed Tommy to hold on a moment longer ( feeling Tommy’s relatively steady breathing against his chest was more comforting than he was willing to admit) before interrupting “Tommy, Tommy, are you okay?” 

Tommy mumbled something Wilbur couldn’t make out into his shirt and only gripped tighter. “Tommy,” Wilbur said a little more firmly “You need to at least sit down. You’re shaking.” 

Nothing, except somehow Tommy squeezing him tighter. Wilbur couldn't breathe and his shoulder was on fire with pain. 

“Tommy, I need to breathe, please.” 

Wilbur wasn’t sure if Tommy even heard him, because for a moment he didn’t move. Then, Tommy slowly pulled away from Wilbur and Wilbur could see the tears welled in his eyes.  _ What  _ was going on with Tommy? 

“Are you okay?” Wilbur asked for what seemed like the hundredth time as Tommy all but collapsed back onto the bed. It was hard to miss the tremors that ran through his hands. 

“I’m fine.” Tommy finally responded. “Sorry about that, my legs were a little wobbly, needed to hold you for support and all that.” 

Now that sounded more like Tommy, already brushing off some show of affection in favor of seeming tough. Wilbur almost breathed out a sigh of relief. “I’m sure,” Wilbur said dryly. “But seriously, Tommy, you still look terrible.” Tommy didn’t. If Wilbur was honest. He still looked half a step from death, only alert. And, well, alert was a strong word. Something that Wilbur couldn’t place seemed to cloud Tommy’s expression. He needed Tubbo to hurry back with their Dad. 

Tommy made a face. “Thank’s Wilbur. I fuckin’ appreciate that.” 

That also sounded like Tommy. 

“You should,” Wilbur said haughtily. He glanced at the door. Where was Tubbo? “Now, stay right there, I’ll be right back, alright? Don’t move.” 

“You’re not the boss of me,” Tommy whined but didn’t seem like he planned to move from his slumped position on his bed. 

“Whatever.” Wilbur said, “I’ll be right back.” 

If he didn’t know better, he’d have sworn Tommy mutter ‘You better be’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah I honestly wrote all of this in under 18 hours. send help. 
> 
> I am going to go back and edit the first two chapter titles at some point. All chapter titles and the book title are taken from songs I listen to while working on this. 
> 
> Also, everyone who comments, you all MADE my day today! I genuinely cannot believe the positive response this has got. Even if I haven't responded to you, know this: I love you. You are amazing. 
> 
> I'm so tired. enjoy.


	5. sacrifice is the price I pay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to be more plot, but by the time I wrote it all out it was the length of like, 2 chapters, so I split it up. So... more angst with just a tiny bit of comfort? Maybe? No. Mostly angst.
> 
> I pinky promise that plot and comfort are coming, but... first have some angst. As a treat.

Philza was in the stable, feeding the sheep when he heard someone approaching. They were running, whoever it was, so it likely wasn’t a sneak attack, but that didn’t stop Phil from allowing his hand to slide towards his blade. However, a moment later Tubbo rounded the corner, red-faced and panting. 

“Phil!” the boy exclaimed, gasping- he’d likely run all the way from the house and while it was still in view of the house, it wasn’t exactly close, with nothing but open pasture between the two buildings. 

“Is everything alright?” Phil asked, trying to tamp down the shot of panic he felt. What could have caused Tubbo to run all the way over? “Is Tommy-” 

“Tommy’s awake!” Tubbo cried, managing a grin between his heavy breaths. “He woke up!” 

“He’s awake-” 

“He recognized me and everything.” Tubbo cut him off, then winced “Sorry! But he even got out of bed!” 

Phil nearly collapsed against the side of the stable with relief. Tommy was awake and at least semi-coherent. He’d been debating Gapples that morning and Phil was more than happy to leave them in the basement. He couldn’t even be bothered to stop Tubbo who was still talking a mile a minute. 

Tubbo’s smile faded as he continued to ramble “ He’s still a bit confused I think because he asked me what the date was and looked at me like I was crazy. Or maybe that was just his fever face. Then Wilbur came in and Tommy just started hugging him and wouldn’t let go. He sent me to get you!” 

“Let’s go then,” Phil said. The sheep could wait, he needed to check on Tommy. Just because he was awake now didn’t mean that he would be for long, or that they were out of the woods. He remembered the good days when Technoblade’s voices first started coming in full force. Days they thought that perhaps the worst was over. It never held and the lows only got lower each time, until finally the voices settled and they learned to cope. 

If Tommy was going to go back under, he needed to know what his son was experiencing. 

Phil took off towards the house, with long strides while Tubbo, who still hadn’t quite caught up to Phil in height, jogged lightly to keep up. Phil didn’t have time to slow down, not when Tommy needed him. 

Wilbur met them at the door. There was obvious worry on his face. “Is he alright?” Phil asked without preamble. 

Wilbur shrugged. “He’s more lucid than he has been, but I think he still has a fever. Not to mention he-” 

“He hugged you.” Phil supplied “Tubbo let me know. Has he said or done anything else?” 

“I managed to get him off of me and settled back on the bed. He did curse at me, so that was comforting.” a smile ghosted Wilbur’s face and Phil couldn’t help but snort. “He looked like he might fall asleep again, so I came to make sure Tubbo had found you.” 

Phil nodded. “Alright, well why don’t you two stay down here so we don’t overwhelm him. “ 

An unreadable expression passed over Wilbur’s face but he nodded. “Okay.” Phil could deal with that later. Tommy needed him now. 

\--- 

Tommy’s door was mostly closed but Phil could still hear Tommy’s raspy breathing from the other side of the door. That was almost as worrying as whatever was going on in Tommy’s head. He pushed the door open, to see Tommy hunched forward on his bed, staring at his hands. He hadn’t seemed to notice Phil enter the room. 

“Tommy,” Phil called softly, trying to not startle Tommy too terribly. 

It apparently didn’t work because Tommy’s head snapped up lightning-fast, blue eyes locking instantly on Phil. Phil felt a pool of dread form in his stomach at the expression on Tommy’s face was the same one from the morning this nightmare started. 

It was fear. Tommy’s already pale face turned an ever further shade of white, and Phil heard his breath hitch audibly. But, unlike the other morning, Tommy didn’t move from the bed. As fast as the fear appeared it vanished. Tommy’s face just seemed to… shut down. His normally expressive son was practically blank. Unease trickled down Phil’s spine as the tip of his feathers seemed to set on edge. 

“How are you feeling?” Phil said, not daring to step any closer and risk a flight response. Tommy wouldn’t be able to get past all of them if he tried to run again, but he might hurt himself. 

Tommy was silent long enough that Phil wasn’t sure if he even heard the question before he finally rasped a terse “I’m okay.” 

“Are you sure?” Phil pressed. Tommy certainly didn’t look okay. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Phil for more than a few seconds, his eyes kept slipping to the door behind Phil before snapping back. “You’ve been very sick these last few days.” 

“I said I’m fucking fine,” Tommy snapped, anger suddenly coloring his tone, mask of indifferent melting. There was another beat of silence, where Phil might have normally called out his son’s language but Phil didn’t dare push him. He could see tremors running up Tommy’s arms, down to his tightly clenched fists, but he wasn’t sure if der shaking was out of some sort of fear or illness. Maybe it was both. 

“Tommy I need to ask you something,” Phil said quietly. He didn’t want to push Tommy, but the kid was relatively lucid. “About some of the things that happened while you were unconscious. Do you feel up to that?” 

Tommy stared at him a moment before responding. “Actually I feel pretty shit right now. I want to go back to sleep.” 

Phil was almost certain that was a lie. Tommy’s jaw was set stubbornly, and his slightly fever glazed eyes glinted in a challenge. Tommy was still sick-the audible rasp in his chest was proof enough of that- so Phil didn’t call him on the lie. He wasn’t sure that if he did he would even get answers. Tommy could be terribly stubborn. “Alright.” Phil agreed, despite how desperately he wanted answers. Despite how worried he was, that if Tommy went back under, he would get trapped in yet another nightmare state. “Do you mind staying awake long enough to eat something? And have a small bit of healing potion. You can’t have much, but it will help you feel better.” 

Tommy’s jaw clenched and Phil was almost certain that he would say something but he finally averted his gaze and nodded tersely. 

Phil let his smile slip off his face as he left the room. Tommy still wasn’t well. 

—- 

Tommy didn’t relax until the door clicked shut behind Philza. Tommy let out a shaky breath and he managed to unclench his hands. There were small angry red half-moons on his palms, stark against his too-pale skin. 

Tommy laid back on the bed, letting his eyes close to try and block out the light from the dim lantern. His whole body hurt and his head was pounding. It has hard to think, even baring time-fucking-travel, which was apparently a thing. Or maybe it was all in his head. Tommy wasn’t sure. 

He’d only just managed to keep it together, with Philza standing in the same fucking room as him for the first time since he’d spawned the withers. He hasn’t spoken to Philza since that day- he hadn’t had much of a chance- and had avoided him at all costs besides. He knew where he stood in comparison to Technoblade. 

Tommy could still see a bloody Phil standing over Wilbur’s body. When Phil was standing in the door, he couldn’t help but wait for Technoblade to appear over Phil’s shoulder, menacing and angry. Calling for the death of  _ Theseus _ . 

But, Technoblade wasn’t here and wouldn’t be. Tommy has seen Phil’s eldest kid for the first time in years when they met on the SMP again. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about that. 

And Phil. This wasn’t that Phil, not yet anyway. This Phil hadn’t done any of that yet. This Phil didn’t want him dead yet. This Phil didn’t know. 

That thought only offered a sliver of comfort, but a larger part of his brain was still screaming at him to get out. It didn’t help that he could still feel a fever pulling at his exhausted mind as he tried not to panic. He wasn’t sure that he could have made it past Phil anyway. But he was too tired now to even try. He was too weak.

Everything felt distant. Nothing felt real. Was it real?

Did it matter? 

“Tommy.” That was Wilbur’s voice. “Tommy, can you sit up?” 

Tommy groaned but forced himself onto his elbow, eyes cracking open to stare at Wilbur blearily. “Gimme the potion,” Tommy grumbled, holding his hand out. 

Wilbur frowned “You need to eat something, Tommy.” 

“Not hungry.” Tommy countered. He didn’t want to eat. He just wanted to sleep, to make the aching stop. He wanted his mind to be quiet. “Just tired.” 

“Alright,” Wilbur said after a long moment of silence and sat the soup down on the table. He gave Tommy a half-empty bottle of healing potion, already uncorked. “Are you sure you can-” 

Before Wilbur could finish the sentence, he’d already slugged the entire contents of the bottle. It was cool liquid and Tommy could already feel the magic settling in his system. He handed the empty bottle back to Wilbur, who looked a little concerned. He wasn’t sure why. Healing potions were no big deal. 

Tommy allowed himself to fall back onto the bed, lulled to sleep by his exhaustion and the magic in his body. 

\---

Philza needed some space. He dispatched Wilbur to give Tommy food and a potion and left Tubbo curled up under a blanket on the couch. The kid had only dozed in short bursts since he’d gotten there the day before and looked just as exhausted as he and Wilbur did. It had been almost six days in total since the morning Tommy had thrown himself out the window, but somehow it felt like weeks. 

Phil had left the sheep half-fed and while he wanted nothing more to fall into his own bed and get some real rest, but Tommy wasn’t out of the woods and Phil still hadn’t finished feeding the sheep. 

So he slipped out the door and through the small stand of trees between the backdoor and the stable. It wasn't quite dark yet. Phil could still see streaks of color in the evening sky, and he was glad that mobs weren’t out at least. He could take them, certainly, but he didn’t want to. 

Phil allowed a heavy sigh at the thought of the night that stretched out before him. He would let Tubbo and Wilbur sleep for the night and he would take the night shift. In the morning the two of them could figure it out while he napped. 

As much as he wished they could all sleep, Phil had seen the fear in Tommy’s eyes. If Tommy managed to sleep peacefully, it would be more of a surprise than if he started screaming again. 

Ender, Phil was tired. He pulled his wings close against his back, buffering against the cold breeze. He wondered what, exactly Tommy saw or heard that made him so afraid. 

So afraid of him, at least. 

Phil hadn’t let himself consider the implications yet, of the idea that Tommy had apparently hugged Wilbur almost immediately, but hadn’t let Phil get within five feet of him. That Tommy had been scared of him.  Phil wished he could remember what Tommy had screamed, exactly, before he’d run that first morning. The memory, however, was muddled by a haze of adrenaline and panic, and recall only worsened from the tired fog in Phil’s brain. He desperately wished he could remember, but a tiny, selfish part of him was glad that those words, whatever they were, were lost now. 

It took only a few minutes to finish up feeding and Phil was glad that darkness hadn’t totally fallen. Even with a lighted path, mobs could be a pain, especially since Phil hadn’t bothered with armour in his own home. Phil left the stable and locked the gate behind him, grimacing at the biting cold wind as he trudged down the path towards his home. 

He wondered if Tommy was already asleep, or if he was still awake and shaking like Phil left him. 

Phil was so engrossed in thought, he almost missed the flash of movement in the woods, about fifty yards behind him on the left. Almost. The movement was enough to spike adrenaline through his system and his thoughts sharpened. 

It wasn’t the red of a fox, but of clothing. A person. Someone was in the woods, and it wasn’t Wilbur. He’d only sent Technoblade the message a few days ago and it took almost twice that long to make the trip, and that was if his eldest was coming at all. Technoblade’s reply to his message had somehow been scrambled by the cross-server transmission, so Phil had only received an indecipherable string of symbols. 

Villagers couldn’t move like that, nor did they wear bright colors. The only other people that lived nearby were Wilbur and the kid’s deadbeat guardian, who was only called such by a technical term. The man was never home and certainly wouldn’t be looking for Tubbo if he was. So, a stranger was in his woods. Phil didn’t have time for that. Tubbo was asleep on the couch and likely didn’t have a weapon on him. Wilbur was probably still awake, but he wasn’t prepared. He had no armour on and his sword was likely laying by his bed, where he’d left it the morning before. And Tommy? Tommy could hardly stand. Phil couldn’t let this stranger reach their house. 

Phil couldn’t see the red any more. Whoever it was had likey slipped behind a tree and had the fading light to their advantage, but if he strained, he could hear the shifting of the forest floor under the intruder’s feet. Perks of hybrid senses, he supposed. 

He drew his sword but didn’t yet lift it. He would give whoever this was a chance to reveal themselves. Perhaps it was a lost traveler, innocently passing through. It wasn’t common, by every few months someone would wander through, half-starved and dazed from somehow getting almost irreparably lost.

Perhaps it wasn’t Phil would never forget the sound of his son’s screams as a bounty hunter busted through there from the front door when they were only four. The blood of a hybrid could bring a pretty price. Either way, Phil would give them a chance to explain themselves. If they chose not to take it, the consequences laid solely on them. 

“Oi!” Phil yelled, “I know you’re out there. Come out and show yourself.” 

There was silence for a moment and Phil’s face hardened as he hoisted his sword up to a more defensive stance. “I don’t want to kill someone tonight. I said show yourself.” 

A tall figure emerged from the tree line a few seconds later, illuminated faintly by the lanterns and dusky evening light. A billowing red cloak hung from their shoulders and netherite armour glinted over their clothes. A golden crown glinted on top of their head and a pig skull obscured the upper part of their face. They were imposing even without the sharp sword that dangled from their right hand. 

The outfit was strange, and far too ornate for anyone on a server of this caliber, but parenthood was a funny thing. Before the figure even spoke, Phil had put his sword away. 

“That wasn’t quite the warm welcome I expected.” Phil’s eldest son called across the clearing, as he removed the pig mask with his free hand, revealing a familiar face. His voice was a little deeper- a little rougher- than Phil remembered, and colored with the hint of a new accent.

“Technoblade,” Phil said, smiling genuinely for the first time in nearly a week. “It’s good to see you, son.” 

“Good to see you too, Phil.” Techno strode across the clearing, in long sure steps, as he allowed his sword to fall back into his inventory. “Even if you did threaten my life.” 

There was teasing in that, despite his son’s deadpan delivery. “You were sneaking around, like some sort of bounty hunter,” Phil said though he knew Technoblade didn’t particularly need the explanation “And I didn’t expect you for another few days. I thought you were still farming potatoes.” 

“Oh yeah,” Technoblade said with a grin that looked a touch sheepish “I was. I just made good time.” 

“Good time? It should’ve taken you much longer. Did you sleep at all?” Phil asked. He wished that the light outside was better and that he could make out more of his son's face than the dim light allowed. 

“Eh, I slept enough,” Techno said casually. His tone shifted to a far more serious one.”But I don’t think my sleep habits or travel skills are why you called me here. You said something was wrong with Tommy?” 

And that was Techno, always deflecting, yet still cutting to the heart of things. Technoblade probably hadn't slept, simply because Phil had asked him to return home. Damn comm messages and their character limits. Phil let out a heavy sigh. “It’s a long story Technoblade. Let’s go sit inside and we’ll talk there.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think my problem is I don't know how to write fluff or plot. Only pain. Also, some of what happened in the SMP canon doesn't quite match my version but it is fanfiction so reality can be what I want. 
> 
> I genuinely have cried over everyone's kind comments. This is the most positive response I've gotten on anything, ever, so I'm kinda riding the high off that tbh. you people rock. Hopefully, a chapter will be out tomorrow or Monday, depending on the speed at which I can finish the assignments I've neglected in favor of writing this and watching Puffy's stream.


	6. you can see it in my smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy has some thoughts, Phil tries to get some answers, and Technoblade causes problems, as usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a long one, but honestly, not much happens? Idk, I'm not happy with it but have 4.9k words of whatever this is.
> 
> also I upped the rating bc language.

_ Smoke.  _

_ There was smoke everywhere. He didn’t know where he was, because he couldn’t see the next step in front of him for the thick smoke that hung in the air, clogging his lungs. Tommy didn’t know how exactly it got there, not when he couldn’t see any fire. Had something blown up? _

_ Had he blown something up? Had he started another fire?  _

_ Tommy didn’t know. He just couldn’t breathe. Smoke stung his eyes, and clogged his nose, forcing itself down into this throat. He coughed desperately, trying to force it out, but every breath was worse than the last.  _

_ “Help!” He called hoarsely, into the smoke, only to be met with eerie silence.  _

_ Where was everyone else? Tommy stumbled forward. IF he only kept going, he would have to get to clean air, but something tripped him and he found himself on his knees, still gasping for breath, choking on the thick air.  _

_ He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t-  _

Tommy woke up, still coughing. His chest ached as he shot straight up, gasping for air between the heavy coughs. A hand was on his back and between the blood pounding in his ears and his hacking coughs he could hear someone speaking, though he couldn’t make out the exact words. Ghostbur. He hadn’t seen Ghostbur in a while. 

“Tommy, Tommy are you alright?” he managed to catch that, which seemed like a stupid fucking question, considering it felt like his lungs were about to come out of his chest. 

Wait. No. Not Ghostbur. As the coughs abated, Tommy’s blurred vision came into focus and the face of his very much alive brother filled his vision, rather than the translucent version he was used to. 

Right. The past. Holy shit he was in the past. 

“I’m fine.” Tommy croaked, because the longer he stared at Wilbur the weirder it was going to get, and he didn’t really want to deal with emotions right now. “Just had a little cough. Nothing I can’t handle.” 

Wilbur didn’t look convinced, so Tommy charged on, talking as fast as he could. “No, really, just a bit of a tickle in my throat, you know? Nothing Big T can’t handle with a bit of food and rest. Speaking of food, I’m fucking starving. Can I eat something?”

The concern in Wilbur’s eyes didn’t fade but he did draw away from Tommy.“Where was this appetite last night when you turned down your soup?” 

Tommy only vaguely remembered what happened after Phil had left the room, too tired and disoriented to really recall. He did remember the healing potion Wilbur had given him, even if it was only half of one, that that was probably why he felt a million times more awake, even if his chest still hurt. Even if he was trying very hard not to think about being in the enderfucking past. “I dunno, I was tired. Now I’m hungry. You know, these are pretty basic bodily functions, Wilbur. I thought a smart guy like you would know that.” 

Wilbur rolled his eyes and Tommy counted it as a win since it seemed like he was less focused on Tommy’s weird little stare now. “Well, I can bring you some leftover soup up here ” 

“Fine,” Tommy whined, mostly for show. He didn’t really care about soup, one way or the other. He thought he might’ve disliked it though, at this age. Pogtopia and Logsteadshire had cured him of any picky eating, though. Enough of that, train of thought, Tommy decided, forcefully derailing it. “It’s better than starvation.” 

Wilbur didn’t laugh. Tommy studied Wilbur a moment, in the moment of silence. ACtually studied him, not just ‘oh shit my dead brother is alive’. Wilbur looked  _ tired _ , though not in the same way he had in the last few months of his life when Tommy wasn’t sure he slept at all unless he simply passed out. Wilbur was holding his shoulder at an odd angle, too. It was hurt. Wilbur always sat ramrod straight when he was injured, especially if it was in his torso. Tommy hid a frown. He didn’t remember Wilbur hurting his shoulder until they were in the SMP. Had Tommy being in the past somehow caused that? It couldn’t have though. All Tommy had done was fucking sleep, apparently. “Alright, just stay put, and try not to fall asleep.” 

“I’m not a toddler,” Tommy protested, tucking away that observation for later “I won’t just run off.” 

A strange look passed over Wilbur’s face for a second before he stood up. “Well, you seem to be taking enough naps for one, so don’t try that either.” 

“Hey! I have been ill! That doesn’t count as a nap! I don’t take naps, bitch! I’m a big man.” Tommy protested, crossing his arms. 

“Whatever you say,” Wilbur said. 

“I’m not a pussy. I’m actually totally fine!” Tommy said. “To prove it to you, I’ll go get my own soup. I don’t need you to baby me, because I’m not a baby.” 

Wilbur’s eyes widened and the smile fell off. “Oh no, you’re staying in bed.” Wilbur said firmly “At least for a few more hours.” 

“Wilburrr.” Tommy whined. “I’m fine! A little cold can’t knock me down. And getting up would make me feel so much better. I’m tired of this fucking bed.” The room was boring- Tommy didn’t even have a window to look out! 

_ Glass shattering beneath him, digging into his skin. No pain. Only fear.  _

As quickly as the strange half-memory had come, it vanished. Tommy blinked, shaking his head to clear the strange sensation. What the fuck was  _ that  _ about? 

“-you even hear what I just said?” Wilbur sounded a little irritated, drawing Tommy out of his thoughts. 

“Uh, no.” Tommy said, trying not to sound like he’d just a weird flashback about fucking window “Sorry, I thought it was too fucking boring. I was thinking about what I wanted to eat and how good it would feel to sit on something that wasn’t this damn bed.” 

Wilbur scowled. “Tommy I can’t believe you sometimes. Well, alright. You can go downstairs for a few minutes, but then it’s back to bed.” 

“Fine.” Tommy groaned “you’re no fun.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Wilbur grumbled, “I’m a little stressed out since you almost died.” 

Tommy scoffed. “I didn't almost die, Wilbur. I’m too tough for that. I just got a bit of a cold.” And, ok, Tommy knew that was exactly true, but he was fine. He’d never time traveled before, so a small coma was probably normal! Just like the nightmares. Tommy didn’t have a fucking guide, ok? 

In retrospect, he couldn’t remember actually hurting, all he could remember was… 

_ Icy hands wrapped around his neck. Water bubbling up in his lungs. Hot breath on his neck. A sword dragging against a whetstone. “Run” _

Enough of  _ that _ . Tommy pushed that train of thoughts aside before he could follow those tracks too far. So what, he’d had nightmares and a fever. That wasn’t too bad. 

Wilbur had started talking again, but Tommy, to be fair, wasn’t really listening. He was busy contemplating time travel which was objectively more important. Even if it was nice, hearing Wilbur’s real voice again, instead of Ghostbur’s whispery tone. Tommy only tuned back in to catch the last sentence. 

“-so thickheaded. I can’t believe you.” Wilbur looked annoyed, which, Tommy was pretty fucking used to. It was such a familiar face on Wilbur and Tommy found a lump in his throat. He knew it before, but this was Wilbur. Ghost bur hadn’t ever really gotten annoyed- was too lost in his stupid happy thoughts and blue to even understand what was happening half the time. Even before then, in Pgtopia, Wilbur had only ever been angry, so angry. He’d never really cared what Tommy had to say. But this Wilbur was none of those things. This Wilbur didn’t hate Tommy yet.

“Sorry, what was that?” Tommy said, not even trying to sound sorry as he jumped out of bed. Well. Jumped was a strong word. He managed to get up and not fall on his shaky legs. “I couldn’t hear you over the sound of how cool I am.” 

“Fuck off,” Wilbur said while offering Tommy his arm for support. As much as he didn’t want t take it, he nearly stumbled on his first step. Not only were his legs far too shaky, but his center of gravity was also wildly different. Damn it, he was short again. He gripped Wilbur’s arm tightly using it for balance. “Come on, let’s go.” Tommy whined, “I’m starving.” 

“Oh Ender.” Wilbur said as Tommy leaned against him just a hair more. (not because he couldn’t walk! Wilbur just… needed to feel useful and who was Tommy to deny him that). “You’re also showering, as soon as you get done eating. You smell like shit.” 

Tommy flipped him the bird with his free hand. Tommy managed to stay upright (and not just because Wilbur was helping him!), as they left the room and headed towards the stairs. Tommy could hear people talking faintly below. He couldn’t make out their voices but he assumed it was Tubbo and Phil. 

Tommy swallowed thickly. Phil would be down there. 

Phil wouldn’t hurt him, though. This Phil didn’t hate him yet. Tommy hadn’t betrayed him yet. Besides, even last night, from what Tommy could recall, Phil had been… softer wasn’t the right word, but perhaps warmer. Like when he was a kid. It made sense, he supposed since they were in the past, but it was still strange. 

But he could face Phil. He could handle it. He was ready for that, even as a small tremor ran up his hand. Phil was safe here. Wilbur was sane. Tubbo didn’t hate him. Technoblade wasn’t here. As long as none of them found out what he’d done. He’d be safe. 

They slowly picked their way down the steps, Tommy leaning far more heavily on Wilbur than he wanted to admit, but finally, finally, Tommy made it downstairs. Somehow, that was even stranger than his bedroom. His room was… well it was a bedroom. Tommy hadn’t spent much time there as a kid because it was boring as fuck, especially when he could be downstairs or outside doing literally anything but sitting in his room reading or some shit. 

Downstairs though, in the kitchen and large living space, Tommy had spent hours with his family. He hadn’t seen it over two years and hadn’t thought he’d ever see it again. It looked exactly the same as it had in his memory. A huge fireplace was inlaid against the far wall, with a comfortable set of chairs around it, piled high with blankets. The soft couch was pushed against the wall like it always had been, a deep green cover. There was a fire crackling in the fireplace, and the scent of food wafting from the kitchen that was just out of sight around the corner. 

He hadn’t considered the house home in a long,  _ long  _ time. Even before they left for good, it had been more of a house than a home. Tommy hadn’t really had a home in the SMP, though L’Manberg was probably the closest he’d come, what, with Wilbur, Tubbo, and all the others, but that too was gone. But, that was no reason for the lump in his throat. This house was just a house. No need to  _ cry  _ over it. 

“Tommy?” Wilbur prodded and Tommy realized he’d stopped on the bottom step and simply been staring. 

“Sorry, just making sure you had time to catch your breath, Wil” Tommy said, trying for a cheeky grin. He wasn’t sure Wilbur bought it. 

They moved into the kitchen, where Tubbo, who looked half awake was sitting at the dark oak kitchen table staring blankly at a plate of bacon while Philza hovered over the counter, still working on breakfast. Tommy swallowed hard. Phil wouldn’t hurt him. Phil didn’t hate him. 

“How’s Tommy?” Phil asked, still facing forward- it looked like he was chopping up mushrooms and was whisking an egg. Phil’s wings were tucked neatly against his back. Phil’s wings were still a deep brown, nearly black in some lights, but still healthy and strong, a far cry from the blackened and twisted wings Tommy had last seen, yet another blatant reminder that Tommy was actually in the past. 

“Right here, bitch.” Tommy said, his mouth moving before he could even really think about what he was saying. Oops.

Phil whirled around and Tommy was surprised to see the genuine concern and… happiness, on Phil’s face. Phil had looked at him with mostly apathy since… Tommy wasn’t sure when it started but it had been a long time. Then after Doomsday, it was barely concealed contempt though Tommy wasn’t stupid enough to not notice that most people looked at him that way. It was just, well, it wasn’t that he  _ cared _ , but that Philza was one of the few people that would actually do something about that contempt. 

“Tommy!” Tubbo exclaimed, suddenly wide awake “You’re up!” 

“He is,” Phil said though he sounded a little less joyful than Tubbo. His eyes slid from Tommy to Wilbur “Why?” 

“Because I’m hungry,” Tommy said, releasing Wilbur’s arms so that he could cross his arm. He swayed a little, but Tommy had more than enough practice standing on far worse injuries, evne if this stupid body wasn’t. “And I’m a big man! I’m fine! Already basically better.” 

Tommy did take a seat after that- not because he was tired- but because that was what people did- they sat. Wilbur went to raise his hands, but aborted the movement with a wince and settled on a grimace instead. “Either I was going to help him down the steps or let him fall down them. I figured that he probably didn’t need a concussion.” 

Phil shook his head, but he smiled at them nonetheless, “Tommy does have a stubborn streak.” 

“Hey!” Tommy said indignantly. “I’m sitting right here!” He hated it when they did that- talked about him like he was a kid- like he wasn’t even there. Though, he supposed he was still a kid now. It still sucked. 

Phil’s eyes landed back on his and Tommy resisted the urge to look away as Phil gave him a smile “I know.” Seeing Philza smile was just plain weird. Phil hadn’t really smiled since he’d join the SMP.  _ Since he’d taken a diamond sword  _ and-Tommy forced himself to move away from that thought. 

“Bitch.” Tommy said instead, more out of habit than anything. “Can I please eat? I’m so fucking hungry” 

“Of course.” Phil said, “You’ve hardly been eating, it’s no wonder your starving.” 

“Yeah, Tubbo agreed between bites of his own food“I’ve only been here a couple of days, but you’ve only eaten like, twice.” 

Tommy frowned. What did Tubbo mean by only a couple of days? Tommy hadn’t been sick that long, had he? He couldn’t remember, of course, since he was in a time-travel induced, fever fueled coma, littered with hallucinations that were just plain weird, from what he could remember. 

Tommy was going to ask but then there was soup in front of his and holy shit, Tommy knew he was hungry, but he hadn’t realized how hungry he was until the food was sitting right in front of him. He was pretty sure that the others were talking and for all Tommy knew they could have been dancing the hula because all coherent thought left his brain as he started eating. He was very, very hungry. 

He wasn’t sure how long he ate, but he was pretty sure that he inhaled his soup in record time. Well, probably not, he thought distantly as he mopped up the last bit of soup with his slice of bread. The first week in Logsteadshire had been rough and when Dream had brought him a single loaf of bread at the end of that week, Tommy tore it to shreds, despite how much it hurt his pride. 

This was probably a close second though. 

“What was that?” Tommy asked, finally tuning back into the conversation at the sound of his name. 

“Nothing,” Wilbur said, just a touch too quickly. “Just said that you really were hungry. I’ve never seen you eat that fast” 

Time-travel wasn’t an easy task, and besides, he apparently had just hoped back into a body that was already fighting a fucking cold, so it was working overtime. “I told you I was fucking hungry.” 

“I can see that, mate,” Phil said as he landed over the table to grab Tommy’s empty bowl. Tommy flinched slightly at the sudden movement but managed to cover it with a fake cough. A fake cough that descended into another painful coughing fit. Ender damn it, this stupid cold was not helpful. 

Phil and Wilbur were both already half out of their seats, but Tommy shook his head. “I’m fine, He wheezed between the hacking coughs “‘M fine.” 

That didn’t stop Phil from getting him a glass of water, or Tubbo and Wilbur from staring at him with a mix of pity and concern. If Tommy could stop coughing he’d glare at them, and tell them to piss off, but his chest just hurt too much. 

Phil pressed the glass into Tommy’s hand and Tommy didn’t even hesitate to down it. This Philza wasn’t out to get him and even if he was, he wouldn’t go for poison, like a coward. The water didn’t immediately stop coughing, but it did ease the pressure in his chest enough so that he could, after about another thirty seconds, catch his breath. Tommy drew in a deep breath. 

“You sound bad, mate.” Tubbo said, frowning “Are you sure you should be up and about?” 

“Oh pis off, all of you,” Tommy said, waving a hand. He ignored the burn in his chest as he sat back upright “I’m fine. Probably would be doing better if you gave me more than half of a healing potion though.” 

Phil and Wilbur exchanged a look that Tommy couldn’t read and Tommy frowned. “I thought you hated healing potions?” Tubbo asked, looking at him quizzically. 

Tommy scoffed. Hate healing potions? “What d- oh! Uh, well, yes. You’re right. I… don’t like them.” Tommy wanted to slam his head into the table. Of course, he had hated them, up until they got to the SMP. After that, he had no choice but to learn to like them. Hell, he’d even built up a tolerance for them during exile that was… probably concerning, based on what Techno said, but Tommy chose to think it was cool. This body, however, didn’t have that tolerance. It might kill him to drink more. Literally. He’d only ever seen someone drink too much 

Ended damn it all. “I was kidding,” he said, desperately trying to fill the strange silence and make up for his slip-up “I was testing you all! You passed! You know I hate those sucking positions. Makes me feel all, potion-y.” Tommy barked a laugh that bordered vaguely on hysteria. “Potions? Nah, not for Big T!” 

This was way harder than Tommy thought it would be. 

\---- 

As relieved as Phil was to see Tommy up and about, he wasn’t sure Tommy should be up yet. He looked pale, his cough, while better, was still terrible, and he was unsteady enough on his feet that he’d had to use Wilbur as a crutch to make it to the kitchen. Not only that, Tommy still seemed… off. Case in point, the entire rant about potions trying to play off whatever just happened. 

Tommy was a shit liar, which Phil was almost always glad for since it made his life as a parent much easier. However, what the kid lacked there he made up for in sheer volume. He could talk and talk and talk until you forgot what he was ever trying to lie to you about. Phil shared another look with Wilbur as Tommy rambled. 

It was strange for Tommy to complain about the lack of healing potion. While Philza was certainly careful, especially with his youngest, about the amount of potion he gave his sons, he had always had to force Tommy to take any of it. Getting him to take a quarter of a potion after he’d fallen out of a tree and broken his ankle when he was 8 had been insanely difficult and Tommy had almost categorically refused it for every illness or injury since. 

The stuff didn’t taste good- to Philza it didn’t have much of a taste at all, but he’d also been making healing potions long before any of his children were thought of- but that was the point. You were supposed to want to drink the potions or run the risk of taking too much. Some people also hated the feeling of magic in their system- Tommy was also one of those people. And Tommy, if nothing else, was stubborn. He wouldn’t just give up on that hill so quickly. 

But Tommy was lying, Philza could see through it and he was almost certain that Wilbur could too from the concerned look on Wilbur’s face. Tommy, in true form, had forced the subject along and Tubbo had allowed it, engaging his friend before Phil could decide if it was worth it to call Tommy out on it. 

“No need to get work up Tommy.” Tubbo said, crossing his arms, though the kid was smiling “But I can tell you’re feeling more yourself.”

“That I am, Tubbo!” Tommy exclaimed loudly, though not quite at his normal boisterous level, more like he was just… yelling. “I am feeling much better, even with that stupid cough. But that would only hold a fuckin’ pussy down!” 

Phil couldn’t help it when his eyes shot up. Tommy had a vulgar mouth- he liked to push boundaries, and that was one way he’d always done it (funnily enough, Technoblade refrained from swearing the most, and as a kid Tommy had always pushed him to say fuck. Phil just thought it was funny and let it happen). Besides, Phil himself was far from a saint, and not to mention Wilbur’s own penchant for swearing, it was no surprise that Tommy knew most of the words in the book and felt comfortable using them, just like the rest of the household, but it seemed like overnight Tommy’s swearing had increased exponentially. “Mate, cool it with the swearing” Phil finally said. 

“Fuck off. Who do you think you- I learned it from? Who do you think I learned it from?” The slip-up was small, but that obviously wasn’t what Tommy started to say and Phil could see the unease in Tommy’s eyes. They needed to get to the bottom of this, starting now. Tommy was still improving, but if his hunch was right, it was only a matter of time 

“Wilbur,” Phil said and grinned at the indignant noise his middle child made. Tubbo snickered and Tommy let out a laugh that was mostly convincing. Mostly. If Phil was going to get answers, or at least make Tommy listen to him he needed to get Tommy alone, though. Other people could simply help him deflect. Technoblade was out doing… something. He was almost certain Technoblade hadn’t slept the night before. After Phil had explained what happened with Tommy, Techno had taken a walk. That had been hours ago, and he still hadn’t returned, but Phil mostly wasn’t worried. Technoblade hadn’t left the server. Despite his eldest’s long absences and overall cold demeanor, Technoblade cared about his siblings, Phil was sure of it. Technoblade just wasn’t built for sitting by bedsides like Wilbur or Tubbo. (Phil could understand that. His wings had itched to fly all week. To just fly and get away from it all, but with Tommy so sick and Wilbur injured, he hadn’t had a choice, as much as he ached for the open skies) 

  
  


“Hey, Wil, why don’t you and Tubbo go take care of the sheep and see if you can gather some honey. We are running a little low.” Phil said, monopolizing the brie silence before Tommy could. “Tommy and I will clean up breakfast.” 

For just a second Wilbur looked like he was going to protest because Phil had asked him to move the honey to a different cabinet just this morning, but understanding dawned on Wilbur’s face when Phil quick red his brow slightly. 

“Sure!” Wilbur said “I can feed the sheep and then we can look for beehives together, Tubbo. You still have some tame ones nearby?” 

“Oh yeah!” Tubbo exclaimed with a grin, pushing away from the table “I have a few hives not far from here!” 

Wilbur gave the kid a smile as he herded him for the door “Sounds great TUbbo.” Their voices faded as they headed out the back door and that left Phil and Tommy in the kitchen alone. 

“Ugh, are you really going to make me do dishes?” Tommy grumbled, even as he tried to stand up. “Come on now. Are you all the ones going on about how sickly and frail I am? And now-” 

“Just take a seat, Tommy..” Phil said. Tommy, who had been looking just over Philza’s shoulder flinched, but obliged. Silence fell over the room. Phil was standing on one side, while Tommy was sitting about as far as he could get from Phil without leaving the table completely. He was resolutely staring out the window as if he was enchanted by the birds, but Phil noticed how tense he held himself, and the way his eyes would cut ever so slightly towards Phil. Tommy was still scared and he had no idea why. 

Phil sat down. 

“Tommy.” Tommy ignored him “Tommy, look at me.” 

Slowly, very slowly, Tommy turned to face him. His jaw was clenched tightly and Phil couldn’t quite read the look behind his eyes. “If you’re going to ask me about how I feel, I feel fine. A little cold can’t kill-” 

“Damn it, Tommy.” Philza snapped, far louder and harsher than he meant to, and Tommy flinched. Phil forced himself to take a deep breath. “Tommy, you didn’t have a ‘little cold’ you almost died. You had hypothermia!” 

Tommy’s brow furrowed “I….what? Hypothermia? Five days? How the hell did I even get hypothermia?” 

Phil’s frown deepened and something cold coiled in Phil’s gut “Tommy, you… don’t remember?” 

“Obviously fucking not.” Tommy snapped and there was a hint of hysteria in his tone.

Phil took a deep breath to steady himself. “Tommy, almost a week ago, I went to wake you up and you… I don’t know exactly what happened.” Phil admitted “You started screaming at me- I couldn't quite understand you, but I’m pretty sure you threatened to kill me, before jumping out your closed window, and vanishing into the woods. Wilbur and I looked for you for hours- he found you inside a small cave you carved into a cliff wall, unconscious.” 

“What the fuck.” Tommy muttered. Phil could see his eyes getting wider “I… I don’t really remember that. I-” 

“You don’t remember that? Tommy, you jumped straight through your closed window- that’s why we had to board it up“ That was worse than Phil thought. Technoblade had usually remembered what he did, even when he was out of control. On when to voices got to such a terrible point, had ever blacked out. Of course, Tommy could simply have been running a fever, but still, to have run for ages like the enderdragon was on your heels…. How could Tommy not remember? How could that simply be fever-induced? And Tommy shouldn’t have been sick; he had been fine the night before, even after the enderman incident. 

“Oh Ender,” Tommy said “I.. I don’t. My old noggin is just empty. Nothing. Not a bit of memory. No clue what you were talking about. My mind is just blank for those few days, sorry mate. Guess the old hypothermia got rid of it, eh? And sorry about whatever I said, must’ve been the fucking healing potions, or maybe I had a little knock on the head. You know me, Big Man always getting into something. Either way, I’m totally fine” 

Now that was a lie, Philza could see it in the way Tommy’s hands were dancing in the air, accentuating his words, which were just a little too carefree. Tommy didn’t remember, not exactly, but he certainly didn’t believe that. Tommy was lying to him. 

“You aren’t fine, son.” Yet another unfamiliar expression flashed across Tommy’s face. “Tommy, please-” 

“I’m back!” The backdoor swi\ung open, and Technoblade walked in. Several things happened at once. 

Tommy shouted, not quite a scream but somewhere between surprise and fear. THen the same kid who Phil had seen struggling to stay upright maybe fifteen minutes ago, shot out of his chair so fast that Philza almost missed the movement. Then, Tommy’s gangly legs somehow tangled with the chair and both Tommy and the chair crashed to the floor.

Simultaneously, Phil had, very eloquently, shouted “Oh shit!”. He’d instinctually jumped to his feet as Tommy fell, wings puffing out in surprise at Techno’s sudden entrance and Tommy’s immediate reaction. 

Technoblade, who had apparently been surprised by the sudden movement and loud noise, dropped the dead rabbits in his hand and drew his sword, taking a step back, as he too shouted in surprise. 

“Wait,” Technoblade said, pausing his own scream. “Why are we screaming?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Cannot keep up with the lore, jeesh, I watch one lore stream and miss 3! Puffy's lore stream earlier was so good though (I think it was Monday?). Anyway. I will be lore binging this weekend
> 
> on an unrelated note the pacing of this story is wack. my bad. also, so many assignments were sacrificed in pursuit of this chapter. I will be doing them now as I cry. Technoblade was supposed to have a POV here but.... I had almost 5k words and a good ending so maybe next time gang.


	7. i'm the story you don't speak of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two for one brotherly angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nothing is happy in this chapter and I am so sorry. 
> 
> There WILL be comfort. I'm not lying I swear, but the comfort is so much better when the angst has time to simmer. 
> 
> Also, I removed the 10 chapter goal. This sucker is going to be longer. probably. idk. I have not planned this out. I just don't want to be misleading.

Technoblade had spent the night hunting. No, that wasn’t right; hunting implied that he had a target. The voices screamed for blood and unfortunately, there were no acceptable human candidates around, so he settled for the next best thing- mobs. The feeling of his sword in his hand was as familiar as the breath in his lungs, merely an extension of himself, cutting down the nearly endless mobs that spawned around Phil’s house. He’d also killed a few small animals once the worst of the haze had cleared. He’d gone a little psycho the night before and he hated to worry Phil like that, so he could at least bring them lunch. The chat still screamed for blood, it always did, but it had eased enough of them that he could at least think about what Phil had told him the night before.

\--

_ Wilbur was upstairs, sitting by Tommy and they’d banished Tubbo to Wilbur’s bed for rest. Technoblade wasn’t sure if Wilbur was sincerely that worried about Tommy or if he didn’t want to be in the same room as Technoblade. Based on the look on Wilbur’s face, it was likely some of both. But his issues with Phil’s oldest son weren’t what was important. Tommy’s issues were.  _

_ “Okay,” Technblade said, allowing himself to settle at the table “Phil you’re worrying me and  _

_ being just a little cryptic. What’s goin’ on?”  _

_ Phil looked exhausted- dark bags hung under his eyes and his blonde hair hung limply under his hat. His voice was low and Technoblade could literally hear the exhaustion in his voice. . “I don’t know, Technoblade. He… I don’t know. He isn’t fine, but I think he’ll live now, at least.”  _

_ Technoblade knew it was serious and that’s why he’d come- he had better things to do that tun back every time a pesky kid broke his arm,- but to hear Phil say that. “You didn’t think he would live?”  _

_ “It was touch and go.” Phil admitted honestly. “I… there were times his breathing was so shallow, his heart rate so unsteady… I debated trying to feed him a gapple, but I wasn’t sure I could even make him swallow it at that point and It might’ve done more harm than good.”  _

_ The voices swelled as the dread that had settled in Techno’s stomach a few days ago turned ice cold and he sat forward. “But he’s fine now, right?” The kid had always been a thorn in his side, but Technoblade still cared about him. Besides Phil and Wilbur would be destroyed if he died, even if it was just his first life.  _

_ Phil shrugged slightly “Physically? I think he’ll get there, but mentally, well, that’s why I called you Technoblade.”  _

_ “I was meanin’ to ask- what did you mean, exactly, when you said Tommy was like me?” Technoblade saw the look on Phil’s face and Technoblade leaned away “Phil, no. The kid’s human! He can’t be like me, you know that. Philza, these voices are just me. Tommy can’t have them.”  _

_ “You know just as well as I do that we don’t know that Tommy’s human.” Philza said tiredly “And I’ve tried all those arguments on myself already, but I keep coming back to that. Besides, I don’t think he’s actually like you, specifically. I think he’s seeing things. He might be hearing them too, but I don’t think he has your Chat, exactly. He just… seems to sometimes be in this other space, reacting to things I can’t see or hear.”  _

_ Technoblade shook his head, digging his sharp nails into his palms as the voices grew steadily louder. “Phil, I think you might be jumping to conclusions-”  _

_ “He jumped out a window, Technoblade.” Phil said, as he sunk back into his chair “And I don;t mean an open one. I woke him up, and he was so scared, so scared of me, that he threatened me with a sword and threw himself through his closed window to get away from me. He ran into the woods and his so well that it took Wilbur and I almost a day to find him. When we finally got him home, he was unconscious but still terrified. He gave me these while I was trying to wipe the sweat off his brow.”  _

_ Phil pulled down his collar to reveal several scratches running down his chest. They were already healing but Techno could tell that they had been deep- hell, they’d probably drawn blood. “Come on Phil,” Tecnoblade said, and even he could hear the uncertainty in his voice “Tommy was just havin’ a night terror. He probably-”  _

_ “Technoblade, please.” Phil said “I could be wrong. I hope to every God I’ve ever heard of that I’m dead fucking wrong. But I don’t know. And if I’m not wrong, you’re the only person that can help him.”  _

_ Technoblade shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Phil I- I don’t know anything about kids I- I don’t really know if I’m the best person to help him. He probably doesn’t even really remember me! and heck, I’m not always the greatest at controlling the voices, ya know. They still get really loud-” TEchnoblade winced as the voices crescendoed. Bastards liked to prove his point “And I can still sometimes get all ‘ooh blood lust-y’ ya know? I’ve killed a lot of people, too, I mean I have a pretty scary reputation. So I-”  _

_ “Technoblade, please.” Phil interrupted and Technoblade could hear the desperation in Phil’s tone. “I couldn’t help you, you’re the only one who has a shot of helping him. I... Technoblade he’s terrified- he won’t even look at me.”  _

_ Technoblade’s mind was spinning, the chat was screaming, all shouting different things. “Shut up” he whispered futility- it only served to make them louder.  _

**_Help him!_ **

**_Dadza Pog!_ **

**_BloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBlood!_ **

**_Blood for the Blood God!_ **

**_TraumaInnit?_ **

**_Hybrid Tommy?_ **

**_Dadza? Dadza!_ **

**_They’re only using you._ **

**_Help him!_ **

**_Tommy needs you!_ **

**_BloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBlood_ **

**_You’re his brother!_ **

**_Blood for the Blood God!_ **

**_Potatoes!_ **

**_This isn’t your family_ **

**_You don’t help kids, not when you could be killing!_ **

**_Help Him!_ **

**_Kill!_ **

**_Protect Tommy!_ **

**_Leave!_ **

**_He’s your brother!_ **

**_Dadza!_ **

**_BloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBloodBlood!_ **

_ “I’ve got to get out of here,” Techno said gruffly, He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly across the floor. His hands itched for his blade. The cries for blood were multiplying the voices merging together, and he wasn’t sure that he could take it much longer, not trapped in that house. _

_ “Technoblade,” Phil called, as Techno strode for the door. he hesitated “Are-”  _

_ “I’ll be back.” That was all he could promise, all he could manage beneath the screaming in his head. The Chat hadn’t been so loud in  _ **_months_ ** _. They screamed for blood. They screamed for so many things.  _

_ He left Phil standing in the door, and Techno could feel his worried gaze on his back.  _

\--- 

Technoblade hadn’t decided if he would stay yet- the night before was proof that he probably wasn’t the best one to try and help someone get a handle on their mental state. He could cope, but his coping mechanism was mass murder. He was fine with that, but Philza probably didn’t want him to teach Tommy that. Of course, Phil had taught Technoblade how to hold a sword and how to use it, so who knows. Maybe Phil just wanted an army. 

Nah, who was he kidding? Phil would be pissed if he taught Tommy murder coping. 

He walked back to the house with the game bag swinging in one hand, whistling. Tommy was probably  _ fine _ . Phil was just being paranoid. He’d talk to the kid, try and cajole him to talk about nightmares or fever dreams or something rational and then he could go back to doing his own thing. He did, actually, have things to do. He would be here like, a week, tops. Then Tommy would be his little maniac self again, and Phil could stop worrying so much and Technoblade could leave again. Heck, maybe Phil would come with him, for old times sake. Phil would think his potato farm was awesome. 

“I’m back!” he called as he barged through the back door, only to be met with immediate chaos. There was a lot of sudden movement and screaming, so naturally, he drew his sword because you don’t earn the name Blood God by being unprepared for a fight. He also screamed, but in reality, it was more a shout of surprise. A war cry, if you would. He was simply asserting dominance. The Chat buzzed, but he easily brushed them off, as they were still sated enough by his earlier violence. 

Then he realized it was just Phil and… Tommy? Man, the kid looked older  _ and  _ like crap. He lowered his sword “Wait, why are we screaming?” 

“You busted in here mate,” Philza said, with a flat expression. “It was a bit out of the blue.” 

Technoblade gave Phil a sheepish smile as he picked his game back up, and shut the door behind him “My bad.” He turned to Tommy “My bad, kid.” 

Tommy didn’t respond, however. The kid was still sprawled on the floor, staring up at Technoblade with wide eyes, causing Technoblade to pause mid-step. Now, Technoblade liked to think he was pretty well versed in terror since he often struck terror into people on and off the battlefield. There were all sorts of different kinds and Techno had caused most of them. The most distinctive, though, was definitely the terror that flashed across someone’s face when Technoblade had his sword at their throat or his trusty crossbow leveled at their head. It was the terror of someone who knew they were about to die. Usually, Technoblade enjoyed that terror on his enemies, watching them fade away at his hand. Even when the deaths weren’t real, on the battle servers, they  _ felt  _ real and the terror was real.

He did not like seeing it on Tommy’s face. 

Because that’s what Tommy was, terrified, tangled in the chair, trying to scramble back desperately, eyes locked on Technoblade. “Tommy?” Technoblade said, not daring to take a step closer. “Do you know who I am?” Maybe the kid had actually forgotten what he looked like- it had been over a year since he’d seen Phil and probably longer since Tommy. And admittedly, he hadn’t seen the kid regularly since he was a preteen. That was probably it (and no Chat, it was  _ fine _ . They weren’t really brothers anyway). 

Tommy flinched at just the words (and that was even his  _ nice  _ voice!). But otherwise didn’t seem to register the question. His eyes were just locked in horror on Technoblade, wide and.. Not quite unseeing, but not quite focused either. “Tommy?” Phil prodded, looking between the two of them. 

“You aren’t supposed to be here.” Tommy finally whispered and holy crap, his voice was somehow even more terrified than his expression, “I’m sorry, I Didn’t please- you- Techno,you-I wasn’t supposed- you aren’t-” Tommy cut himself off, looking somehow more distraught. Ender, this kid was freaking out. Technoblade looked at Phil, to get an indication of what the heck was going on, but Phil was laser-focused on Tommy. And ok, the kid was having a grade-A freakout, so fair enough. 

“Tommy are you alright, son?” Phil asked, very, very gently, like he was talking to a wounded animal. It reminded Technoblade of the voice Phil had used with him when the voices- oh. Not great. 

Tommy’s eyes snapped to Phil for a brief second, only marginally more clear. “Did you call him? Who am I kidding, of course, you fucking did! You called Technoblade on me!” 

Techno’s eyes widened. There was  _ bitterness  _ in Tommy’s tone under the fear, but Technoblade had no idea why. Tommy barked a borderline hysterical laugh and Techno was almost certain he could see unshed tears glistening in the kid’s eyes. 

“Yeah, he called me.” Techno said and Tommy’s eyes were instantly back on him “He said that you… said that you were sick and he needed some help. Around the house.” A weak lie, but Tommy was so freaked out he’d probably believe it. Probably. “I, uh, brought some rabbits for lunch.” 

Tommy just stared at him, and then, suddenly, his entire demeanor changed. Oh, the terror didn’t go anywhere, not at all, but something shifted behind his and Tommy was on his feet, an obviously fake grin plastered on his face. It looked liek it was seconds away from cracking. “Sorry about that, boys.” he said, and Techno glanced at Phil, wondering if they were going to ignore the shake in Tommy’s voice and the obvious tremors in his hands “Just got a bit startled there, and these stupid legs are a bit shaky. I just… thought someone was breaking in! Got surprised! Not every day The Blade stops by your house! But, of course, I’m not scared of you Technoblade! Just surprised!” 

Tommy didn’t let them get a word, rambling nervously as he edged backward on obviously unsteady legs. Techno noted that Tommy had referred to him as The Blade. That particular moniker was pretty new and he hadn’t even told Phil about it! and otherwise, news didn’t travel into this server. How had Tommy known that? “Not Big, T! I don’t get scared! And anyway, good to see you Techno! But! I uh, hate to admit that Wilbur is right, but the bitch is. I stink. I’m-uh- I’m gonna go shower! Right now! Alone! Thanks for the food, Phil!” 

With that, Tommy turned tail and practically ran up the stairs. A moment later a door slammed and the sound of water flowing could be heard in the silent kitchen. Technoblade was surprised Tommy made it up the steps, considering how bad he actually looked, and the vaguely audible rattle in his chest. He had to have one hell of an adrenaline rush. 

“That was weird, right?” Technoblade said, looking at Phil, who just looked generally exhausted “Also, since when does the little monster call you Phil, instead of Dad?” Techno had thought that was really only a him thing- as long as Wilbur was still calling Phil dad (which Techno had heard him do the night before) he’d figured Tommy would too. 

Phil sighed and collapsed back into his chair “He hasn’t stopped calling me dad. Or at least he hadn’t until all this started. That’s the shit I mean, techno. He isn’t well. Something is happening in that kid’s head.” 

As much as Techno had really, really, really wanted Philza to be wrong, for Tommy to continue to be an annoying, but good kid, that little display… hadn’t been encouraging. He still wasn’t sold that Tommy was hallucinating or hearing voices, since Tommy had seemed at least somewhat present. He’d only addressed people that were actually, tangibly in the room and could identify those people- even if what he said made zero sense in any context Techno could think of. 

“I’m still not convinced you’re right.’ Techno said finally “But I do believe that the kid is in a bad place. I’m ot sure how much help I’ll be, since he didn’t exactly seem thrilled to see me, but I’ll do what I can.” 

“That’s all I ever ask of you, son.” Phil said, and Technoblade couldn’t help but feel a touch guilty at the tone in Phil’s voice. Philza wouldn’t have forced him to stay-he probably couldn’t have even if we wanted to, honestly.- but Techno felt bad for considering leaving when Phil was so torn up. When Tommy was obviously unwell. 

He wasn’t exactly close to the kid, these days. Didn’t much think about any of them these days (despite whatever Chat said,the lying little bastards). However, Technoblade wouldn’t wish his  curse gift  Chat or anything like it on even his worst enemy. Certainly not on Tommy.-- Tommy was, ultimately, still a kid. He was bright, brash, and sometimes a little bastard. But Techno would never forgive himself if he walked away and Phil was right. 

He owed this family at least that much. 

\--- 

Tommy gripped the counter tightly, forcing himself to breathe. Between the thundering of his heart and the sound water in the shower behind him drown out any noise in the house. Like Technoblade’s voice. 

Technoblade. 

Tommy shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut. He hadn’t been prepared to see him, standing there in the door. In that moment, he was certain he was going to die. When he saw the pink hair and the familiar sword, Tommy was certain that somehow the past two days had all been a lie- somehow manufactured by his brain or by Phil to convince him he was safe before Technoblade killed him for his betrayal. 

It was like being in the ruins of L’Manberg, watching the withers spawn. 

_ “If you want to be a hero, then die like one!”  _

It was like standing in the community house ruins, trying to choose between two sets of certain death. He could, in that moment, not see the younger version of Techno, but the one with skulls dangling from his fingers and fire bruins all around him. 

Of course, that wasn’t true. Techo and Phil weren’t trying to kill him yet; neither of them knew what he’d done. Would do? Fucking time-travel.

Ender, he was in the past. Tommy, despite seeing irrefutable proof in more than one way, still couldn’t quite believe it. It made no fucking sense. Time-travel shouldn’t be real. Obviously, it fucking was possible, but he had no idea how he managed to get back in time. The last thing he really remembered was… in the woods with Niki? That sounded about right. And after that…. Well, it wasn’t  _ nothing _ . There were bits and pieces, but Tommy wasn’t sure where the future (past?) ended and the past (present?) began. 

All he knew was that somehow, he’d ended up fourteen again. 

God, Dream didn’t even know his name yet. He didn’t own any discs. L’Manberg wasn’t even a thought in Wilbur’s mind. Phil’s wings were whole. Tubbo had never been president. Fundy wasn’t even a part of their lives. And the Egg, whatever the fuck that shit was, was far, far away.  Tommy, this Tommy, hadn’t ever taken a life. 

Tommy drew in a deep breath. Everyone still had their lives. 

Lives. Tommy grabbed at the hem of his shirt with clumsy fingers, pulling it up to reveal three small green hearts lined up right over the real thing. He let the shirt drop as he pressed a hand to his mouth in shock. Three lives. Holy shit, Tommy had three lives again. And all of them had their lives again. Tubbo,  _ Tubbo  _ his best friend still had all three lives and so did Wilbur. Philza had two left. 

He wasn’t living on borrowed time anymore. He’d been so used to it, the fear of that last heart going dark, that he hadn’t even thought of it. 

Tommy wasn’t going to cry- he didn’t cry, that was such a baby thing to do- but if he cried, it would probably be then. He managed to hold the tears back as he slid to the floor, shirt falling back into place. 

He really was in the past. 

Tommy was in the past. No one, not a single soul, knew that. It had to stay that way. It had to. He’d already decided that Philza couldn’t know, but none of them could. If they ever found out, they’d hate him. Techno would kill him. He would ruin everything again if he ever told them. 

But if he kept his mouth shut… Tommy’s heart swelled with true hope for the first time since they lost the election to Schlatt. If he could keep his mouth shut, then maybe, just maybe, he could fix everything. He could prevent them from ever going to the SMP. 

Tommy could fix every single mistake he’d made. He could redeem himself for all the horrible things he did. Tubbo and WIblur would live. Phil wouldn’t hate him and Techno… Techno might not want to kill him at least.

Tommy couldn’t tell them, not if he wanted to fix things. He’d have to do it alone. 

\---

Technoblade was a patient man. 

Tommy was avoiding him. It was pretty obvious, in Technoblade’s opinion. Pretty much as soon as Technoblade entered a room Tommy was immediately searching for an out. Mostly the kid was using Tubbo, which was smart since Tubbo also seemed a little nervous around Technoblade. After Tommy took the second half of a healing potion, his strength returned in bounds and while the kid still looked a little pale, he was allowed to go outside with Tubbo, so long as they stayed within screaming distance of the house. He could’ve stayed with Wilbur too since Wil was also intent on avoiding him. 

Technoblade normally wouldn't take offense to either of those things. What did it matter, after all? (Shut up Chat) But, Technoblade was kinda wasting time, if he wasn’t actually doing what Phil had called him to do, but pushing Tommy was a bad idea. He could still see the fear simmering just beneath the surface literally every time Techno was near him. It wasn't quite the same terror, but it was obvious that Tommy wanted nothing to do with him. 

So he settled for Wilbur instead, if only to piss him off while Tommy wasn’t around. He was also kinda bored. Tubbo and Tommy were out, doing something, and Phil was making circles high in the sky to keep an eye on them without them knowing and Tommy getting mad. 

It wasn't hard to track Wilbur down. He was usually in one of like, three places, and Techno found him on the second try, tucked up in the attic space with his guitar and book, jotting something down. 

“Sup, WilburSoot.” Technoblade said, poking his head up into the small space. He’d put his crown and cloak away, and Phil had even convinced him to remove his armour while he was in the house.(He made sure that his totem was always strung around his neck, though, warm against his skin. Just in case) and was wearing an old sweater that was just a little too snug. 

Wilbur jumped a little, his pen veering across the page wildly. “Fuck you.” Wilbur said, glaring up at him “You made me mess up my notes.” 

“Sorry,” Technoblade said though it was obvious that there was no sincerity in his tone. He pulled himself up into the attic without invitation- he knew good and well that he wasn’t getting one from Wilbur, and settled across from him. 

Wilbur’s glare didn’t soften “Do you need something?” 

Technoblade rolled his eyes. Wilbur had always been blunt when he was angry. “Getting right to it then? What if I didn't want anything? Ever consider that, huh?” 

Wilbur loved him with a blank look “Jeesh, alright, fine. I just wanted to talk to you Wilbur, you know, since you seemed so intent on not talking to me.” 

“What if I didn't want to talk to you? Ever consider that, huh?” Wilbur snapped, mocking him with his own words. 

“Rude,” Techno muttered. “Well, what if I wanted to talk to you?” 

Wilbur closed his eyes “Technoblade, I genuinely am too tired for this. Dad isn’t around. You don’t have to pretend to actually care about me, or Tommy for that matter. We all know you only still here because dad managed to guilt you into it, somehow.” 

Technoblade had been prepared for a fight with Wilbur, hell maybe that’s why he sought him out, but Wilbur didn’t fight with fists. He fought with words and Technoblade hadn’t been prepared for the venom dripping from his voice and physically recoiled. The chat’s volume increased suddenly. 

_ How dare he!  _

_ Blood!  _

_ Kill him for disrespect!  _

_ Ooh snap!  _

_ The boys are fighting!  _

_ Blood!  _

_ He should pay in blood for that! _

  
  


Technoblade forced the voices to the back of his mind. He did  _ not  _ need that right now. 

“That was uncalled for,” Technoblade said, his voice dropping to a dangerous level, calm and even “What are you talkin’ about?”

“Oh come on,” Wilbur said with an eye roll, his voice dripping bitterness “You haven’t been home in a year, and the last time you were, it was only for a few hours. You didn’t even see Tommy, since he was out playing with Tubbo. Before that, you still rarely visited. Phil would go see you. I’m surprised Tommy even remembers what you look like since you left at 16.” 

Technoblade clenched his hands and took a deep breath. Wilbur’s tactic had been the same since they were kids- Work Technoblade up so that he’d run off and Wilbur could have the last word. It worked more often than he would like to admit. Especially because usually whatever Wilbur said was at least partially right. 

And no, Technoblade hadn’t been living at home regularly since he was 16- hadn’t kept in good contact, but Wilbur didn’t get to paint him the villain here, not solely anyway. Technoblade was almost certain he’d never forget the night he left. He and Wilbur had screamed at each other for hours. 

“You’re the one who told me it was better I stayed away.” Technoblade managed after a moment, and Wilbur stilled. Bingo. Technoblade smiled. It wasn’t nice. 

Wilbur stared at him, and storm clouds rolled behind his eyes. His voice was somehow both angry and tired “I am not having this fucking fight with you right now. I can’t deal with this, not right now. “ he headed for the ladder and Technoblade didn’t stop him. He wasn’t sure he could avoid hurting Wilbur if he touched him. 

“What, are you scared to face the truth.” Technoblade spat at Wilbur’s retreating head. 

Wilbur paused and glanced back up, eyes still stormy “No, I just don’t care anymore, Technoblade. You haven’t ever wanted to bring it up before and I don’t want to now. We both know you’ll be gone soon enough so it doesn’t matter how I feel about this shit.” 

Technoblade didn’t have anything to say to that, so he just watched Wilbur disappear down into the main house. He sighed heavily, as the anger drained out and buried his face in his hands. 

Oh yeah, things were definitely going to go  _ great  _ with Tommy later. Phil had definitely picked the right guy for this job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a really long note about how much I love all the people who comment, kudos, and read but I fucked up and it's gone so just take the chapter and this instead. I love you. You all feed me my daily serotonin. 
> 
> please know that I was struggling to write a 1400 word paper, so I work a 4k+ chapter fic today. how. 
> 
> anyway you all rock, pls be nice, and drink some water. I'm going to sleep before I try to post the chapter in the author's notes section again.


	8. can't slow down, can't hold back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo ponders, Phil is dense, and Tommy has a little bit of fun, for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh I hope you enjoy? I am writing this at 3 am, so that's fun. A bit of conflict between Phil and Wilbur here, uh, a bit of comfort bc I was sad today. There is still a pretty solid bit of angst to come, so this is just a treat.

Tubbo was worried about Tommy. He considered the past few days as he walked from his own home to Tommy’s house, just over a large hill and some woods. They had been strange. 

Tubbo knew that the others thought him a little naive. Too wrapped up in happiness and innocence to pick up on such things, but Tubbo wasn’t stupid. He simply chose to be happy. Happiness wasn’t stupid. 

But, choosing happiness didn’t mean he could ignore his friend in obvious distress. Tubbo was more than happy to spend all day with Tommy. Tommy was his best friend- had been his best friend since Tommy had found Tubbo living in a box while his guardian was away and dragged him to Philza’s for the week. However, Tubbo knew that Tommy was simply using Tubbo to run away from his family. 

That was usually okay too. Tubbo understood that sometimes, a person needed their space. He was happy to be that space for Tommy. But Tubbo wasn’t stupid. This wasn’t Tommy’s normal annoyance. No, Tommy looked  _ afraid  _ of his family. 

And that, in Tubbo’s opinion, was simply ridiculous. Well, Tubbo could understand being afraid of Technoblade. Tommy’s oldest brother was right terrifying, especially with his mask and sword, and Tubbo didn’t much care to hand ‘round him either if he could help it, though the man seemed nice enough. 

But, Tommy was afraid of Phil and that just… didn’t make sense. Phil, when he was at home, never yelled, always made sure they were safe. Cared for. Phil was… a pretty good dad, Tubbo thought when he wasn’t off on his trips. Even then Phil always brought them something from his travels. He even brought Tubbo things! 

All that to say, Tubbo had no idea why Tommy was so scared of his dad all of a sudden. Or why he was no longer calling Philza dad. 

He’d tried asking outright, which, Tubbo could admit, probably wasn’t his smartest move. “Tommy, when did you stop calling Phil dad?” 

Tommy had simply frozen in place for a moment and Tubbo was worried that he was going to run off or something. But, Tommy had just forced a smile and said “I dunno what you’re talking about, T-man! I just got to old for that mushy shit, I guess. Wanna go see if we can find a fox?” 

That was a horrible subject change and Tubbo didn’t believe anything Tommy said, but Tubbo knew his friend. Pushing him would likely result in Tommy just shouting at him, which while Tubbo didn’t mind, wasn’t particularly productive. 

Besides, Tubbo did like foxes, so he had allowed Tommy to lead him off into the woods just past the house. 

Then, Tubbo considered, there was the Wilbur issue. Tommy wasn’t scared of Wilbur. At least, not like he was scared of Phil or Technoblade. But, Tommy got this horribly sad expression on his face every time he looked at Wilbur for too long, and sometimes Tubbo was certain there were tears in his eyes. But, Wilbur had shouted at Tommy the night before- not even really angry, just teasing about something or another, maybe explosions or something- when Tommy froze up. Tubbo didn’t think Wilbur noticed, or perhaps Wilbur ignored it, but there had been a flash of panic in Tommy’s eyes, which just didn’t quite sit right with Tubbo. 

Something had happened, more than anyone was telling him, and he didn’t like it. Tommy was his best friend. He deserved to know what was going on! But, even though he was older than Tommy, the adults treated him like a kid. They wouldn’t tell him. At least not Phil or Wilbur. He had no idea what Technoblade would do or wouldn’t do, but again, Tubbo was a bit scared of the man. He was huge! 

However, the issue with that was getting Tommy himself to admit anything was wrong. Tommy was… a bit closed off if nothing else. Tubbo was certain, however, that he could get Tommy to open up. He wasn’t his best friend for nothing. Privately he considered himself the world’s foremost Tommy expert and was certain he could get Tommy to admit what was wrong. 

He even had a plan!

\--- 

“You know.”Tubbo said, conversationally to Tommy who was already a little nervous looking “I think today is a beautiful day.” 

“Of course you fucking would,” Tommy grumbled, but Tubbo knew that Tommy wasn’t angry. Tommy had very distinctive yells- Tubbo had learned that long ago- and this one was simply just his normal grumpy. “It’s pissing snow.” 

“That isn’t an expression,” Tubbo said lightly. “And the snow is pretty.” 

“It’s cold.” Tommy countered, crossing his arms “And I’ve been ill! You’re dragging an ill man out into the fucking snow!” 

“This was your idea, Tommy.” Tubbo pointed out with a laugh “You wanted to sit on the roof. “ 

Tommy muttered some curse words under his breath and Tubbo laughed again. Tommy seemed most himself these days when it was just the two of them. Except when Tommy gave the weird sad look to him. He hadn’t done it today, but he’d caught Tommy doing it twice the day before. 

It was strange, how different Tommy seemed, yet still the same. Tubbo allowed silence to fall between them. That was his plan, to be honest. Tommy… wasn’t good at silence. The guy liked to talk, even to himself. Tubbo found ti comforting, even when he didn’t have to say anything. It just reminded him that his best friend was there and wanted to talk to him. So, he figured that if he let Tommy ramble long enough, he might accidentally tell him something. It wasn’t the best plan, but asking Tommy outright was almost impossible unless Tommy was in a sharing mood. 

Tubbo chanced a glance over at Tommy. No, his friend wasn’t in a freely sharing mood. Based on the glower on his face. 

“I miss my window,” Tommy said suddenly, and Tubbo his a smile. “I guess I jumped out of it or some shit, but I want it back, you know? It just gets so dark in my room, and even though I’m fine Wilbur and Phil keep making me go to bed early, but I still don’t have my window. It makes it hard to keep track of time too. When I wake up it’s just dark, the same damn level of light all the fucking time. It drives me nuts. It’s like being back in fucking Pog-” 

Tommy cut himself off, shutting his mouth with an audible click. Tubbo frowned. THey’d been getting somewhere, finally, (because Tubbo had noticed how nervous Tommy had gotten in the dark room the night before, eyes wandering to where the window should be) and Tommy stopped. It didn’t make sense, either. Tommy’d always had a window. 

“It reminds you of what, Tommy?” Tubbo prodded gently, hoping that his friend would answer the hopefully innocent question. 

Instead, Tommy just glared. “Nothing. It reminds me of nothing. Just… just a nightmare.” Tubbo couldn’t help the surprised oh that escaped his lips. He knew Tommy had been having nightmares- Wilbur had told him as much- but he was surprised to hear Tommy himself admit it, much less that something had scared him. 

“Can you tell me what it’s about? Or you could tell Wilbur. Sometimes he listens to my nightmares!” Tubbo suggested brightly. Wilbur always listened, when Tubbo asked him too. Phil probably would listen too, but Tubbo wasn’t sure. So, Wilbur was his go-to, if Tommy didn’t want to listen. 

“No!” Tommy snapped, whirling to face Tubbo. Tubbo flinched back, not just at the sudden movement, but at the anger on Tommy’s face. “No, Tubbo I-I don’t want to talk about it, and Wilbur, Wilbur can’t ever fucking know about that nightmare. It’s stupid anyway.” Tubbo couldn’t help but notice the way Tommy’s voice wavered, like he might actually cry. 

Tommy hopped to his feet. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It’s ducking stupid. Let’s go do something else.” He wasn’t angry anymore, but Tubbo could see the tension in Tommy’s shoulders. There wasn’t much else he could do, now that Tommy was all clamed up.

“Okay.” Tubbo agreed, slowly getting to his feet. “Want to build a snow fort? We can give it a cool basement and everything! And make snow animals to go in it!” 

Tommy stared at him for a moment and it was a strange expression- it was almost like the one he’d given Wilbur- before giving Tubbo a grin “We can make a snow castle! We can make the best fucking snow fort ever.” 

Tommy wasn’t ok. Tubbo would have to revoke his own best friend card if he believed that, but he wasn’t too worried. 

Even if Tommy’s family was a little scattered, Tubbo was still there and eventually, Tommy would tell him what was wrong. And, even if he didn’t Tubbo would be there. He’d always been told by his guardian that he good at much, but Tubbo was sure he was good at being a friend.

He would help Tommy. Unfortunately, that meant he might need more help than he thought. And Technoblade seemed to be the way to do it, and for Tommy? Tubbo would work with Technoblade.

\---- 

Phil watched from the back window and Tommy and Tubbo started building… something out of snow in the backyard. Part of him wanted Tommy inside, where it was warm, but the kid was healing pretty well. He no longer wobbled when he walked, and according to Tommy, his chest didn’t hurt. 

The terrible coughs he could hear in the morning begged to differ, but Phil, unfortunately, still had to tread carefully around Tommy. His son was still a terrible liar, but he was obstinate. And now, he’d chosen to be stubborn about not only how he felt, but about what was going on in his head. 

It had been almost three days since Phil had managed to explain to him what had happened- at least about the first part- and now Tommy was avoiding him like the plague. He was still scared, but as scared as he was of Phil, it was obvious he was ten times more scared of Technoblade. 

Outside his outburst on that first day, there had been no other issue. However, the moment Technoblade entered a room, Tommy was searching for a way out of it. He rarely spent more than fifteen minutes in a room with tEchnoblade and perhaps worse than the fear was the guilt. Tommy was… well, he was Tommy. The gremlin was always into something, and usually something he wasn’t supposed to be. And normally, it didn’t bother the kid, much to Phil’s chagrin, but if Tommy truly messed up, his guilt was easy to read. 

And Tommy was guilty. But Phil had no fucking clue why. Just like he had no idea why Tommy was calling him Phil instead of dad, or why he was scared of his own shadow, or what he saw when he looked at Wilbur that made him sad. Or why Phil still woke up to the sound of Tommy screaming. He’d gone up there only once, in the last few days, only to find Wilbur already there. He hadn’t bothered getting up after that, because really, Tommy didn’t want to talk. wHat could he do? 

Phil had no idea and it was driving him insane. 

Technoblade wasn’t having much luck either, and Phil was worried about him too. He wasn’t sure that TEchnoblade had slept since he’d arrived (though he knew his eldest had to have slept, he still hadn’t seen it.) and Technoblade was constantly out, doing something when he wasn’t trying to corner Tommy. Phil wasn’t even sure if Technoblade was trying though. 

Ender, Phil wanted a break. His wings itched for the open skies and different terrain. He wanted nothing more than to just.. Fly off. Adventure like he hadn’t in years. He hadn’t left the homestead in almost a year, due to one thing or another. He’d been planning a trip, perhaps, to see Technoblade, if only for a week or so, but that was of course off the table now that Technoblade was home. 

Phil still wanted to get away. 

He pushed those thoughts away. Maybe if Tommy recovered well enough, he’d be able to leave Tommy with Wilbur for a few weeks. Wilbur had always been responsible enough, always mature. And honestly, Wilbur was probably closer to Tommy than Phil himself. Phil credited that to Wilbur being the one to find Tommy. He and Technoblade and been on a trip into the Nether, since Technoblade had been begging to go and threatening to go alone. Wilbur hadn’t wanted to go, and at 11, the kid was old enough that he could be alone for a few nights, with strict rules on staying in the house unless absolutely necessary. 

However, time sometimes worked differently in the Nether than on the Overworld, and there was little he could do about it since clocks didn’t work and time otherwise seemed to pass normally. Phil thought they’d only been gone three days, however, when he returned Wilbur was half an inch taller than when they left, and a small blonde child was shouting at them from behind Wilbur. 

It had been almost a month, Wilbur informed them. And the child was Tommy. Wilbur had found him in the nearest village (Phil nearly had a stroke, thinking of the four-mile round-trip between the two that Wilbur must’ve made on his own), and he had no family left and was living in a tree. He was their new brother. 

Phil had instantly decided the child would stay the second he set eyes on him, but he’d let Wilbur make his pitch, before assuring Wilbur that Tommy was welcome to stay as long as he wanted. Of course, Tommy never left. He remembered it took another few months for Tommy to warm up to Phil and Techno, but he had always followed Wilbur around like a lost puppy. 

As much as Tommy denied it, Phil could tell it was true. It was kinda sweet, minus when Wilbur did idiotic things and dragged Tommy along with him. 

Phil was almost certain that one day, his second life was going to just disappear due to the stress of his children, despite how much he cared for them. 

But, regardless, as much as Phil ached for travel, he simply couldn’t leave right now. 

The front door opened and shut resolutely. The footsteps were too light for Technoblade and Phil could still see Tommy and Tubbo, so it had to be Wilbur. “Wil!” he called, not taking his eyes off the younger boys. “Come here a minute.” 

Phil heard a small sight and turned as Wilbur entered the kitchen, beanie pulled low on his head. “Morning son.” Phil greeted. “Have you seen Technoblade?” 

Wilbur scoffed “Of course that’s what you want to ask.” he mumbled, Phil only able to make it out due to his enhanced hearing “I dunno. I’ve got no idea what he does- you probably have a better guess than me.”

Phil blinked in surprise at the bitterness in Wilbur’s tone. “What’s that suppose to mean?” Phil tried to keep his tone neutral but winced as it sounded a bit sarcastic even to his own ears. 

Wilbur rolled his eyes. “Please, Dad. I really don’t want to talk about this right now. I sincerely have no clue where Technoblade is. I haven’t seen him since yesterday afternoon late. I went out and when I came back he was gone. I think I heard him in his room after I went to bed last night, but I have no idea. I’m sure he’s fine though. You don’t have to worry about the great  _ Technoblade _ .” 

Phil sat his mug down, squinting at his son, who was absolutely livid. “Wilbur, what the hell are you talking about?” 

Wilbur let out a laugh that wasn’t happy. “I already told you, I really don’t want to talk about it dad. Ender, you are Techno are just alike.” 

Phil still wasn’t exactly sure what Wilbur was talking about- where all the hostility towards Technoblade, towards him, was coming from. His two eldest had always had their differences, especially after Technoblade started traveling on his own. Especially once Technoblade started distancing himself from the family. It certainly hurt, just a little, that Technoblade no longer called him dad, but he could live with it. He also knew that the traveling had sparked some sort of fight between the two, but he’d assumed it was solved by now- it had been almost six years! 

“Wilbur, come on now, you can’t just-” 

“If you don;t get it by now, you probably won’t” Wilbur snapped cutting him off, then took a deep breath. “Look, just drop it, dad. I… I’m over it. I don’t care. I’m sorry for yelling. Is there anything else you need me to do?” 

Phil should probably force Wilbur to talk about it. That would be the smart thing to do, right? Wilbur obviously wasn’t fucking over whatever it was he claimed he didn’t care about, probably whatever fight Technoblade and Wilbur had all those years ago. Neither of them had ever told him exactly what happened. But…. Phil was tired. Tommy was losing his mind, Wilbur had been injured and was now angry, and Technoblade being home only introduced a whole new dimension to their issues. Phil was tired. So he just sighed. “No, son. I don’t. You can go on.” 

Wilbur had relaxed some, but Phil would have to be blind to miss the tension in his son’s shoulders.”Alright. I’m going to go see what Tubbo and Tommy are building.” Wilbur said tersely. He didn’t wait for Phil to respond before stomping out the back door. 

Phil groaned, his wings slumping against the counter. What the hell was that about? 

\--- 

Tommy had  _ fun _ , building the snow fort. 

He’d allowed himself to get caught up in the designing and the packing of the snow fort, which it seemed like there was no shortage of. It wasn’t a grand building like some of the homes he’d made on the SMP, or like the Snowchester builds Tubbo had taken on recently. Would take on? Fuck, it didn’t matter, Tommy decided, forcefully shoving future thoughts away. He’s already fucked up once and nearly mentioned Pogtopia to Tubbo, which would have been literally the worst thing he could have done. He’d only been trying to keep things a secret for like, three days, and he was already fucking it up. 

Great. 

But, he’d built the fort with Tubbo, then Wilbur showed up and had built his own little shelter and started a snowball fight. 

An enderdamned snowball fight. Tommy hadn’t done those in years- he was certain that i had to be before the SMP, and even then, he couldn’t quite place the last time. But, Wilbur’s shoulder had pretty well healed and he was putting it to good use, chucking snowballs at him at Tubbo. Wilbur didn’t look like it, but he had really good fucking aim. 

Tommy, did too, though. And, apparently, despite his body being smaller and weaker than the one he’d gotten used to (and recently ill!), it was also technically healthier. He was no longe littered in scars and he’d realized that morning that now that he’d pretty much recovered from his apparent coma, his knees didn’t hurt all the time, from the sheer amount of fall damage he’d taken in the future. And, the constant dull ache in his right arm from a poorly heal arrow wound was gone. 

Maybe most noticeable was the fact that he could now hear the birds clearly. He could hear them, even as he huddled behind the fort, making snowballs with Tubbo, far louder than he had in years. 

Who knew that repeated exposure to explosives could fuck your hearing up, even with healing potions? 

Tommy was drawn out of his thoughts by a snowball splattering against his heat. He yelped, realized he’d leaned a bit too far out of the fort while gathering fresh ammunition as he pulled his head back in. 

Wilbur’s laugh echoed across the open field, taunting them. “I’m hit!” Tommy cried dramatically ( he didn’t think of all the times he’d yellowed that when it wasn’t funny. All the times his friends had screamed it. He didn’t think of that. Couldn’t. He was having  _ fun _ ) “Avenge me Tubbo!” 

Tubbo rolled his eyes a bit but laughed “I’ll get you for this, Wilbur!” Tubbo cried, though there was an unmistakable note of laughter to it. Tubbo launched a snowball at Wilbur and it hit the taller man square in the face, causing him to shout in surprise and fall backward into the snow. 

Tommy laughed, as he launched his own snowball, though he wasn’t sure it hit. He froze, however, as a new laugh joined theirs. It was dry but loud and it took every ounce of self-control in Tommy’s body to keep from completely freezing as Technoblade emerged from the woods. Their laughter died off, as Tommy and Tubbo shared a look. 

“Getting beat by some little kids, Wilby?” Technoblade called, either ignoring or not noticing the tone change “Cringe!” 

Tommy could see Wilbur’s face scrunch up. Tommy had forgotten that Wilbur and tEchnoblade didn’t really get along at this point- Wilbur had been so absorbed in his insanity that Tommy wasn’t even sure he remembered that he and Technoblade were brothers once. (  He wasn’t sure that in the end, Wilbur remembered that Tommy was his brother too) .

Wilbur looked like he was going to respond, but Tubbo, surprisingly, spoke first. “You should join us, Technoblade! Or, Wilbur! He needs help! H’s got noodle arms. We’re demolishing him.” 

Wilbur halfway looked like he wanted to protest the idea and Tommy thought Techno was going to, but apparently, Tubbo, the innocent-looking bastard, managed to give them a puppy dog look that Tommy had to admit was effective as hell and Technoblade grinned. “Eh, why not? Destroying my enemies is my favorite pass time.” 

It was a joke. Tommy knew it was a joke. 

Didn’t do much for the fucking panic building in his chest, though. 

“You alright, mate?” Tubbo asked quietly, as Tommy sank down below the walls of the fort. The cold snow under his skin felt good. Grounding. 

“Oh Tubbo.” Tommy forced himself to groan dramatically “You’ve sentenced us to our death! Death at the hands of The Blade” 

He hoped Tubbo heard more humor in that statement than Tommy felt about it. 

“Nah,” Tubbo said “Come on! We’re unbeatable together! Besides, They’re too distracted fighting each other to worry about us! We need to launch an attack.” 

Tommy really just wanted to run away, but that wasn't exactly productive, nor would it convey to anyone that he was fine, so he forced himself back up, to find that Tubbo was right. Techno and Wilbur were bickering over their fort’s walls, Wilbur claiming Techno needed to build his own walls. 

“There isn’t enough room in here.” Wilbur insisted loudly, arms crossed “You need to build your own extension.” 

“There’s room right there!” Techno exclaimed loudly, pointing to a pretty large empty spot beside Wilbur “Bro, it’s  _ right there!” _

“Make your own.” Wilbur said stubbornly “I’m going to put snowballs there. For storage.” 

“Dud, I’m on your team, come on-” 

Tubbo let a snowball launch while they weren’t looking, and it landed smack against Techno’s face just as Tommy’s connected with Wilbur’s. Tubbo froze and Tommy couldn’t help the slight flash of panic as Techno reached up slowly, ever so slowly, to wipe the snow off his face. 

He moved before he could think- before the panic could take over,  before he thought about the festival , launching another snowball at Techno himself, before rapidly throwing one at Wilbur. Both hit their mark and Technoblade finally just dove for cover beside Wilbur, who was finally smart enough to duck down. 

Wilbur squawked in protest, but Technoblade was a force of nature and Tommy could just the top of Techno’s pink hair beside Wilbur’s brown hair. 

“Hah!” Tommy called, trying to be far braver than he felt “Got both of you bitches! You can handle how great we are!” 

“Yeah!” Tubbo called, finally daring to pop back up over the edge of the fort, emboldened by Tommy’s words “We’re going to demolish you!” 

“Listen,” Tommy heard Techno say “We need to unite against a common enemy- the children! We can’t let ‘em keep gettin’ away with this!” 

“You know what?” And Tommy knew Wilbur wanted them to hear it, which was never good. “I think you're right. These gremlins need to get knocked down a peg or two.” 

Tommy looked at Tubbo with wide eyes. “Oh no.” Tubbo whispered, “I think we’ve made a mistake.” 

\-- 

They had, in fact, made a mistake. 

Tommy had forgotten just how efficient of a team Wilbur and Techno could be when they weren’t lighting and Wilbur wasn't going insane. He and Tubbo had pretty much gotten destroyed after those first two hits, and eventually, their fort had been overrun. Tommy wasn’t proud of it, but seeing Techno jump over their fort, tusks gleaming, arms raised had caused him to scream like a little girl. 

He’d been about two seconds from drawing his sword (which would have been just as effective as his fists, since it was still fucking wood) , because he could only see L’manberg and the withers, but then Tubbo had laughed, through his shouts, and that had brought Tommy back to reality just as a huge snowball crashed down over both their heads. 

Ender that was fucking sappy.

Regardless, Tommy had actually managed to laugh, if only for a few moments after that, cold, wet, tired, but just, for a split second, he’d been laughing with Tubbo to his left, while Technoblade and Wilbur claimed victory, even as Tommy threw half-hearted fists of snow at them. 

For a split second, he’d been fucking happy. 

Then, Phil called them for dinner and the moment was broken. Wilbur’s smile slipped away as he muttered something to Technoblade that Tommy couldn't hear. Technoblade’s own expression fell, as Tommy was reminded why Technoblade was scary as fuck. 

Tubbo chattered beside Tommy as they walked back to the house, Wilbur several steps ahead, and Technoblade still a few steps behind, but Tommy didn’t hear a word. 

He had to remember what he was here for. It wasn’t snowball fights. He needed to make plans. He needed to preserve his family. He needed to keep things from going belly up. He didn’t have time for fun. He needed to make sure that he didn’t fuck everything up again. Tommy wouldn’t let himself ruin his family again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to address my view on Phil and Tommy but I got tired so basically this. Phil is trying to be a good dad. It does not exactly happen always. He is not purposefully bad tho. 
> 
> Tommy was manipulated but he also made bad choices. He desperately needs some therapy, but that will include actual self-reflection that isn't self-loathing but still allows him to acknowledge bad decisions he made. 
> 
> I do not want debate on that in my comments pls this is my comfort content and I promise that the characters will be fixed and everything will be fine. Everyone will be happy in the end. 
> 
> On a different note, I have a second fic I'm working on. It will be much shorter than this one, but it's still SBI content so go check it out. I will self-promo. I have no shame here. 
> 
> Anyway, lmk what you think! I apologize for not responding to everyone's comments but I Physically Cannot bc my brain just shuts down. I love all of you though! Have a happy Valentine's day even though I'm a few hours late. 
> 
> Uhh I put way to much in this my b.


	9. look me in my eyes, tell me everything's not fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Technoblade and Tommy have a chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am bad a writing fight scenes and it shows.

Technoblade frowned as he sharpened his golden sword, methodically drawing the whetstone up and down the sword. It was one of his least favorite swords in actuality and he wasn’t sure the last time he’d used it. When he had his enchanted Netherite sword and a regular diamond sword on backup, he had no use for the gold sword. But, sometimes he just  _ craved  _ the feeling of a blade in his hands and the act of sharpening a weapon was meditative, even relaxing while still close enough to violence that it satisfies his more.. bloody tendencies. 

Sharpening a sword took precision though- too much and it would fall apart, or ruin the balance. So, he kept his gold sword on him for the express purpose of sharpening. Hey, a guy had to have his hobbies, and people generally preferred that over stabbing, so when he couldn’t stab his problems, he sharpened his sword. He spent many hours sharpening the gold sword when he was fighting the potato war. 

And, unfortunately, he couldn’t stab this problem. 

Well, he could. Technically. But he wouldn’t! It would, if nothing else, piss Phil off if he shish-kebabed Wilbur. Besides, Techno didn’t really want to stab Wilbur. Not much. Maybe just a little. Not enough to kill him, just enough to… No! He wouldn’t stab Wilbur. Even after yesterday. Technoblade thought that maybe Wilbur had just been a bad mood in the attic- he’d always been prone to moody outbursts- and had come down from his little hissy fit after the snowball fight. He thought it had been a real bondin’ moment or something. 

_ “Just like old times, eh? Except I wasn’t pummeling you.” Technoblade said, clapping a hand on Wilbur’s shoulder, fixing the taller man with a grin. Wilbur’s face had twisted into a frown as he shrugged off Technoblade’s hand.  _

_ “This doesn’t change anything, Technoblade. I meant what I said yesterday. I just don’t care anymore.” Wilbur had simply shrugged, not sounding angry, just tired, which was somehow worse. “Now come on. Dad wouldn’t want to eat without you.” _

_ Technoblade had just watched Wilbur walk towards the house, Tubbo and Tommy behind him, resisting the urge to scream in frustration. What was Wilbur’s problem? _

Not even with the encouragement of half the Chat. The other half was backing him up at least, either insisting he yell at him or go talk it out, which ugh, were boring,  _ feeling  _ options. Technoblade was personally going to try and ignore the situation until he dealt with Tommy and could then skedaddle. They’d been ignoring what was apparently a major issue for some time now (even though Technoblade hadn’t realized it was quite such a big issue- and no Chat he wasn’t lying!) and it would be fine to keep ignoring it. Technoblade, as much as he liked visiting, really did have better things to do than play house. Besides, the voices never stopped demanding things- things that Technoblade couldn’t give them here. Not without losing things he wasn’t willing to. 

And, okay, back to sharpening, because who needed deep thought like that? 

**_Cringe! Aww, Technoblade cares. Feelings? Blood!_ **

“Very helpful Chat, as usual.” He muttered, angrily allowing the sword to fall back into his inventory, as he discarded the whetstone back into Phil’s chest in the basement. The sharpening wasn’t doing enough to distract him. He needed the rush of real combat, or, at least something similar to distract him. Adrenaline always helped the Chat align itself. 

But it was hours until nightfall and there were no mobs nearby to destroy unless he wanted to risk going into the mine or reactivating Phi’s nether portal, which would also require some digging, neither of which he really wanted to do, honestly. 

His eyes slid across the storage space in the basement until they locked on the sturdy wooden and stone practice swords Phil had made them years ago. They still looked to be in good condition, resting against a far wall. He’d seen Tommy with a newer wooden one, but the ones in the basement looked like they hadn’t been touched in ages- probably not since Technoblade himself had left home. 

Maybe it was time to break those out again. Technoblade picked up two of the stone ones, weighing them in his hand. They weren’t his usual weapons, and the balance was off, but they would do. It was still a weapon, as dull and ineffective as they were, and even a fake fight would help soothe his nerves.

He easily climbed the ladder and pushed the trapdoor up, hoisting himself into the edge of the kitchen. Phil wasn’t in there and he couldn't hear any movement from the living area, so he was probably outside. Techno grabbed his cloak since it was cold outside. The snow wasn’t terribly deep, especially not with the path he’d helped Phil shovel the day before, and it had stopped snowing, but it was still chilly, even for a hybrid like him, so until he could get his blood pumping, he wanted the fur-lined cloak. 

It wasn't hard to spot Phil, who appeared to be clearing more snow. His green and white bucket hat and black wings stuck out against the stark white snow that coated the ground. 

“Phil!” Technoblade called, and the man turned around, waving “Want to spar?” 

“Better than clearing snow!” Phil said, letting his shovel drop, as he made his way towards Technoblade, who was standing in what had always been their makeshift sparring arena. It wasn't much, but there was a semi-circle of trees planted on one side to act as a barrier and a raised ledge of cobblestone on the other, creating a defined circle to prevent it from becoming a chase rather than a fight. There was only a thin layer of snow on the ground, thanks to the thick canopy of trees above, only the semi-frozen ground underneath his boots. 

“Now, I haven’t sparred with anyone in a while.” Phil said as he took the stone sword from Technoblade “Well, besides training Tommy. And while he’s very good for his age…” Phil grimaced instead of finishing the sentence. 

“It isn’t really a fight.” Technoblade offered. It wasn't rude. The kid was, what 13? 14? Whatever he was still young. Technoblade had been good at that age, but he was the exception. And even then, Phil still beat him more than half the time. It wasn’t until he hit his growth spurt at 15 that Technoblade had really started beating Phil regularly. 

“Just know I’m out of practice,” Phil warned. 

“Do you want me to go easy on you, old man?” Technoblade teased lightly, as he pulled his own sparring sword out of his inventory. 

Phil scoffed “Hardly. I’ve been itching for a real fight for ages. And last I heard, you hadn’t been doing too much fighting yourself- what, spending’ all your time farming potatoes?” 

Technoblade snorted a laugh “Hey, it was a potato  _ war  _ Phil. I’ve been fightin’ with my mind. Doesn’t mean I can’t go find someone to spar with.” 

Technoblade hadn’t actually fought anyone in his potato war- a fact he was more than just a little proud of- but he had made regular trips to competition servers to get his fill of sparing. It was how he burned off steam. 

“Well, we will see who is more out of practice,” Phil said with a grin, then without warning, he lunged. 

See, Technoblade hadn’t known it until he was 11, but Philza had a bit of a reputation in some circles. That reputation? The Angel of Death. Technoblade hadn’t understood it as a kid. Phil wore stupid sweaters, told bad jokes, and rescued baby birds. Phil was far from the angel of Death, even when he was fighting mobs. 

But, when he saw his father truly fight for the first time in the Nether, he understood. It hadn’t changed much since then. When Phil entered the zone, his normally happy expression twisted into something like terrifyingly calm determination. The huge black wings that towered over him only added effect. 

Technoblade was used to that, however, and he easily side-stepped Phil’s first lunge, only a whisper of feathers brushing against his arm. “Trying to get a jump on me old man? Gotta try harder than that.” Techno taunted, and Phil grinned, which Technoblade couldn’t help but return, as they moved back into battle. 

It was easy to lose himself in the fight. Phil was his oldest sparring partner and when they fought, it was familiar. He’d learned all his basic form and technique from Phil and more than a few advanced moves. However, Technoblade didn’t fight exactly like Phil- he couldn’t. Phil didn’t rely on his wings- that would be too easy of a weakness to explicit- but he used them as an advantage that Technoblade couldn’t replicate. But, Technoblade had learned from Piglin and had spent years fighting on countless servers, spilling real and fake blood. He had a few techniques of his own- tricks Phil hadn’t taught him. 

But, despite the familiarity, Phil was simply a good fighter. Technoblade wasn’t actually sure how old Phil was, but he’d been fighting long before Technoblade was born, and Techno was sure that he’d be dead wrong if Phil had moves he hadn’t shown Techhnoblade. 

But, the surprises made their spars fun, as did the familiarity. The Chat fell in line as he fought, providing mostly helpful tips, or just cheering him on. Mercifully, there were few calls for blood. 

They both landed hits, albeit measured ones that wouldn’t do more than bruise at most, and took them in equal measure. There were times Techno was certain he’d lost, and was going to have to eat his pride, only to spot an opening that allowed him to get his edge bac and times he was certain he had Phil backed into a corner when the older man managed to somehow get out of it and land a few more hits. 

It was just fun. The blade sang in his hands as he whirled it. At some point he discarded his cloak, tossing it off into the corner of the ring, and Phil lost his hat after narrowly avoiding one of Technoblade’s hits. 

He wasn’t sure how long exactly they sparred- when he was fighting, time meant nothing- but eventually, he managed to knock Phil’s sword away from him and had him on the ground, sword leveled at his throat. Phil bowed his head slightly and cracked a grin. “Guess I am out of practice.” 

Technoblade lowered his sword and grinned, offering Phil a hand to help him up. “Seems like it. You did give me a run for my money though, old man.” 

“Stop calling me old,” Phil said, even as he allowed Technoblade to help him to his feet.”I’m not that old!” 

“Sure you aren’t.” Technoblade said, and Phil rolled his eyes, and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘kids’. Technoblade would ignore that, in favor of the small audience that he had just noticed. 

Tommy was standing just at the edge of the tree line, wrapped in his warm clothes, staring at them. He probably thought that they couldn’t see him, but Technoblade was more observant than the average guy- came with the territory of people constantly trying to kill you for one reason or another. 

Tommy had always been interested in fighting, from what Technoblade could remember. When they were kids, he would constantly harass Technoblade about training, or sparring with him every time he was home. He wasn’t sure when that stopped. Heh, probably when he stopped coming home. 

But, the kid would probably still want to spar with him, right? Technoblade hadn’t done it much with Tommy as a kid, because Tommy was so small and kinda bad at fighting. Technoblade couldn’t really spar with him, and pretty much only did so when Phil guilted him into it or when Tommy was being a particularly annoying nine-year-old. A few faint bruises wouldn’t hurt him and the kid needed an ego check. He wasn’t sure it ever sunk in though, because the kid always came back for more, even when Technoblade said no. Chat, for once, seemed to be in general consensus that it was probably a good idea. Which, okay, Chat’s agreement wasn’t  _ always  _ the best measure of ‘good idea’ but they were helpful sometimes. 

The kid would think it was fun, right? He needed to get Tommy comfortable around him so that they could talk (he’d seen Tommy’s face yesterday, right before he’d dropped that last snowball, and for just a second the kid was definitely seeing something that wasn’t there- something that scared him), and even Tubbo, who was also scared of him, had cornered him yesterday after the snowball fight and whispered in hushed tones that he was worried about Tommy adn that someone needed to help him. Apparently, he too thought Technobalde could help. He had no idea why all these people thought he was any good for the job. But, he supposed he had to at least give it an honest try, before telling Phil it hadn’t worked. 

Sparring always helped him, anyway. It would definitely work for Tommy, right? The kid always talked about being a big man, so it made sense. Right? “Hey, Tommy!” Technoblade called, waving at him “Wanna spar with me?” 

\--- 

Tommy really, really, really didn’t want to spar with Technoblade. Like, not at all. He’d just watched Technobladeand Phil go crazy, beating the shit out of each other, and Tommy could remember all the times that Techno had trained him in his exile. It had been… brutal, at times. It had been helpful though when it came down to it.  When it came to killing Dream . 

And shit, he’d been staring too long, and he remembered wanting to spar with Techno so bad, before… well, before, so how could he say no? He couldn’t. “Techno, I don’t know if-” Philza started and Tommy knew he was going to try and stop this- call Tommy weak. Tommy wasn’t He survived wars and fucking time traveled. Besides, he needed this Technoblade to like him. This would help, right? He’d decided the night before when he was desperately trying for sleep, that the easiest way to keep everyone safe and alive was to keep them from leaving. If Phil left again, Tommy wasn’t sure he could keep Wilbur away from the SMP eventually and if Technoblade left with no intent to return, Phil would follow, just like last time. 

So, he needed Technoblade to stay around, for that reason alone. (It had nothing to do with Tommy missing Techno- missing those months at his cottage either because he fucking didn't) Which, considering Phil hadn’t been able to make that happen, and Tommy was pretty sure that Techno found him annoying at best, it wouldn’t be easy to get Technoblade to come around. That meant if Technoblade was offering anything- Tommy had to take it. 

So Tommy swallowed his dread and forced a grin “Sure!” he said, cutting Phil off. He stepped into the arena and shed his thick coat. The cold winter air bit at his exposed skin, and Tommy repressed a shiver. His coat was too bulky- it wouldn’t allow him enough freedom of movement to spar. Besides, Technoblade was wearing a short-sleeved shirt and seemed fine. He could handle it. “I gotta warn you, I’m pretty fucking good at this shit. Don’t go easy on me” 

Tommy could literally see the skepticism on Technoblade’s face and Phil looked like he wanted to intervene. Tommy wasn’t stupid. He knew that he had absolutely zero fucking chance of beating Technoblade in PvP, even a Technoblade that was over two years less experienced than the one he remembered. But, being cocky was his thing. It was all about presentation, even if he got his ass kicked. 

Technoblade grinned and it was a little bit patronizing, which only made Tommy glare harder. “If you say so, kid.” 

“Please don’t break anything, I just got him back on his feet,” Phil called, from where he was perched on the cobblestone wall. 

“I make no promises,” Tommy called and even though he wasn’t looking at Phil, he could hear the eye roll. Technoblade just laughed and he passed Tommy a stone sword. 

The weight was somewhat unfamiliar in his hands but far better than the stupid wooden sword that he’d been stuck with for the last few days. The stone was obviously dull- probably had never been sharpened, but it was at least weighted like a real sword, rather than a piece of fucking wood. He missed his real sword and his trident, the way his sword fit into his hands, balanced perfectly and sharpened to a deadly point. 

But, the stone sword was better than nothing, at least. 

He took a few steps back, and before Phil could call start, Technoblade was already moving. 

Technoblade, despite his size, was fast. Tommy, however, was faster, since he didn’t have shoulders the size of a fucking tree, and managed to narrowly dodge Technoblade’s first swing. He tightened his hands on his sword, to hide the tremors in his fingers. This felt too familiar for comfort. 

He launched himself out of the way, rolling on the cold ground, coming up into a crouch. Technoblade was already back towards his, bringing his sword up towards Tommy’s side, but Tommy managed to block the hit, deflecting the blade to the side, before bringing his up towards Techno’s arm. His sword was battled away almost gently, and Techno for Tommy’s chest, but Tommy easily sidestepped it. 

That was an obvious move- Technoblade was going easy on him. Tommy scowled. Tommy wanted a real fight. So, rather than Give Technoblade a chance to even turn around, Tommy charged forward, using his leg to try and swipe Techno’s legs from under him. It didn’t exactly work, but it put him off balance enough that Tommy managed to land a hit on his side, as Techno spun to face him. 

Something changed in Technoblade’s face, and suddenly, he was moving much faster and Tommy felt his eyes widen. He wasn't going easy on Tommy anymore. It didn’t make Tommy happy exactly- no, he knew what it was like to face The Blade in combat and this was far more like it. It was just a little too close to standing on the edge of what was once L’Manberg, torn between fear and rage. Tommy couldn't help but let his eyes slide to Philza for a second, despite the danger of taking his eyes off of his opponent. He had to be sure. Had to make sure that this- Phil was simply standing to the side, watching with concern. He wouldn’t be spawning Withers. Somehow, that helped, even if he could still taste ash in his mouth. 

Tommy met Technoblade’s relentless assault as best he could, but he was mostly just playing defense now. His arms ached and his legs shook with the exertion of keeping Techno from landing most of his powerful blows. He tried to disarm Technoblade in a move that Techno himself had taught Tommy, in the future obviously, but while he knew how to do it, he’d lost years of training and muscle memory, and his own sword went flying across the arena instead of Technoblade. Stupid weak body, with shaky arms and no real training. 

A second later he was on his back, sword at his throat. Tommy swallowed hard. It wasn’t real. The sword was dull. It couldn’t hurt him. They weren’t going to kill him. This wasn’t L’Manberg. This wasn’t Doomsday. This wasn’t Dream. This wasn’t real. Technoblade wouldn’t hurt him yet. He had no reason to hurt him. He was safe. He was safe. He was fine. He wasn’t going to die. 

“-good?” 

Tommy opened his eyes to find Technoblade and Phil crouched over him, which did not help the panic he was holding at bay. Tommy scrambled back a few steps and jumped ot his feet. He cleared his throat and took a steadying breath before trusting himself to speak without saying something monumentally stupid. 

“Sorry,” Tommy said, letting a nervous laugh leak out. “Just had the fucking wind knocked out of me a bit, nothing that Big Man TommyInnit can’t handle! “ 

Technoblade accepted the explanation without question, despite Phil’s noise of protest. “Eh, you did hit pretty hard, probably woulda knocked the wind outta me too.” 

Tommy nodded slowly. “Do you want to go again?” he wasn’t sure what Technoblade would want now. Another fight was the most likely option- he could still remember the hours they spent in the freezing arctic air, where Technoblade would fight him with seemingly endless energy, until Tommy physically couldn’t go any longer or until he mastered whatever move Techno had picked out that day. 

However, Technoblade shook his head and allowed his stone sword to fall back into the inventory. “Nah, I don’t really want to. Why don’t we take a walk instead kid? I need you to show me where the mine is- I can’t remember. .” 

About fifteen different warning bells went off in Tommy’s head because that was suspicious as fuck. Technoblade obviously knew where the mines were, and Techno even winced a little, like even he knew it was a bad fucking lie. He looked over at Phil, who looked almost as confused as Tommy felt. He wasn’t sure if that was comforting or not. Either way, it just sounded like a really good way to get stabbed or some shit. But, then again, this Technoblade hadn’t been betrayed. Even if he found Tommy annoying he wouldn;t kill him- he was pretty sure that Technoblade wouldn’t anyway. He hadn’t killed him when he found Tommy hiding in his basement after all. Technoblade had liked him once. 

And, if Tommy wanted to keep Technoblade from hating him- maybe even getting Technoblade to like his this time around- he’d have to suck it up and spend time around him. Tommy could do that. “Already forgetting where shit is? I guess I can show you.” Tommy grumbled as he pulled his coat back on, ignoring the way his arms were already protesting. Stupid weak body. 

“Tommy you’ll need to go grab some armour” Phil chimed in, sounding a little concerned “Things tend to spawn in there, no matter how much light we spit down there. I think your iron armour is in a chest in storage.” 

“Iron armour?” Technoblade chimed in, sounding incredulous “Oh no, I don’t travel with broke people. Hold on. I think I have an extra set of diamond armour in my ender chest.” 

Tommy couldn’t really find himself surprised as Technoblade placed his enderchest, rustling around, only to pull out a diamond chest plate, leggings, boots, and a Netherie helmet. Phil, on the other hand, gaped a little “You have a full set of diamond and a Netherite set of armour?”

“Oh yeah,” Technoblade said casually, as he passed the armour to Tommy. It was enchanted to be light, Tommy could tell because his arms didn’t buckle under the weight. That was even better than his iron, which was not only ineffective but heavy. “I had some extra time, ya know? Just did some extra grindin’” 

Phil shook his head. “Alright, just try to be back before lunch, you two,” 

\---

Tommy walked almost in step with Technoblade- he was still slightly too short to fall exactly in step, but he could mostly keep up. Techno had put on a set of Netherite himself and his long cloak He wasn’t even pretending to actually be leading Technoblade towards the mines because the older man seemed to know exactly where he was going. 

That somehow made things worse. Not to mention fucking silence. The forest was still, and covered in snow. Even the birds seemed to be quiet, despite bright sunlight filtering in between the tall trees. Fuck the silence. 

“So, why do you need to go to the mines?” Tommy asked, “It seems you’ve already got plenty of fucking resources.” 

“Well,” Technoblade said, “You can never have too much, ya know?” 

“I guess,” Tommy said, remembering the vault full of Wither skulls future Technoblade had. “You would have that fucking mindset.” 

Technoblade sighed, coming to a stop. Tommy stopped too, trying not to imagine the last time he and Technoblade had taken any sort of walk together. “Tommy, I don’t really need you to lead me to the mines.” 

“No shit.” Tommy muttered, staring at the ground by Techno’s feet.“That was a weak lie. So why’d you drag me so far out from the house, when it’s cold and shit? Going to kill me or something?” 

It was supposed to be a joke, but Tommy couldn’t help but grimace at his admittedly scared tone at the end. He clenched his jaw and kept his eyes on Technoblades boots. He couldn’t look him in the eye. He couldn’t. 

“If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t have given you my diamond armour, would I?” Technoblade asked. “I mean, not that it would stop me from killing you, but I did work hard for that armour. wOuldn’t want to dent it for no reason.” 

Technoblade’s voice was dry and Tommy was certain he was joking, but he couldn’t help the slight flinch at the idea of his armour’s value being the only thing that stood between him and Technoblade’s sword. Armour didn’t stay on forever. He could practically feel the heat from the TNT, blowing up whatever meager armour he’d scraped together on his face, and hear the sound of Dream’s laugh whenever he protested. He swallowed hard. 

“Tommy, Tommy I was kidding.” Technoblade’s voice managed to snap him back into some sort of reality “Hey, look at me. I-I was just kiddin’. I just wanna talk to you.” 

“Yeah, course.” Tommy managed, finally forcing his eyes to Technoblade’s face only to find pity. Tommy didn’t want his fucking pity. He didn’t deserve it. “I knew that, bitch. Besides, I was, uh holding back when we sparred. I didn’t want to hurt you with my moves.” 

“If you say so. “Technoblade said with a snort “But, I will say, you fought real good, especially since you’ve been in a coma and all that. Where’d you learn that disarming move? It didn’t work of course, but It definitely could, if you had more power behind it. It wasn’t Phil’s style” 

Tommy swallowed a nervous laugh. Technoblade had taught him that move- probably created it himself or learned it on some far-off server, but obviously he hadn’t learned it yet. Shit. “Oh, just around.” Tommy said “I’m fucking smart, just kinda made it up. Hadn’t gotten a chance to try it on Phil yet.” 

Technoblade snorted “Well, it wouldn’t have worked the way you did it- needs more twist and power- but still a good idea. May have to test it out myself. And speakin’ of Phil, when did you start calling him that, instead of dad?” 

Tommy paled. He hadn’t stopped calling Phil dad until Phil had left him and Wilbur in late spring of the next year. Right now he had no reason to have stopped, especially since Wilbur was still calling him dad. Shit. He’d fucked another thing up already. This was just fantastic. “Oh, I just, uh, I’m a big man! As a big man yourself, you should get it! I’m far too big of a man to call Phil dad!” 

Technoblade stared at him, something like worry in his black eyes. “Tommy, that’s now why I stopped- wait, this isn’t what I really wanted to talk about. Phil isn’t happy, but he isn’t gonna say anything about it, specifically. He’s more worried about whatever is happenin’ in your head.” 

“Why is Phil worried about my head! It’s fine” Tommy snapped because the last thing he wanted to do was talk about his feelings with Technoblade. “What, do you want me to talk about my feelings or some pussy shit like that?” 

“You don’t have to talk about your feelin’s necessarily, but you can at least listen, alright?” Teechnoblade said as he dropped down on a snow-covered log. He patted the space on the other side “Now sit down.” 

Tommy wanted to argue, but he wasn’t sure it would do any good, and his legs were already aching from the sparring, so he dropped down beside Technoblade, still glaring at the floor. 

“He thinks you’re goin’ crazy you know,” Technoblade said after a moment of silence. Tommy’s head snapped up because he wasn’t fucking expected that to come out of Technoblade’s mouth. “Seeing shit, hallucinating, screamin’ in the middle of the night. He’s worried about you. Wilbur too. Heck, even I can tell something’s going on upstairs that ain’t right” 

Tommy closed his eyes. They’d all already figured something out. He’d thought he was doing okay- he thought that maybe, just maybe, he would fuck everything up for once. Obviously, he was fucking wrong. It was just like everyone said. He only caused problems. 

“-my. Tommy!” Tommy’s eyes snapped open as Technoblade’s hand landed on his shoulder and he realized that he was crying. He wiped angrily at his eyes, “Tommy that’s like the third time you’ve zoned out today, which doesn't really help your- are you crying?” 

“No,” Tommy snapped, which was obviously a lie. He wasn’t sure why he bothered. “I’m not crying. It’s just cold and my eyes are watering from the stupid cold.” 

“That… doesn't make sense, but okay.” Technoblade said, “But if you’re cold, here, have this.” 

Before Tommy realized what he was doing, something heavy and warm draped over his shoulders. It was Technoblade’s cloak. He let out a choked half-laugh, thinking about the blue cloak Techno had gifted him in the future, the one that had sunk under the community house when Tommy chose his side. “The point is, Tommy, you’ve definitely been going through somethin’. That’s the whole reason Phil sent me a message- he thinks you’re gonna turn out like me or somethin’” 

“What do you mean?” Tommy asked, still wiping the tears from his face. “Like you? He thinks I’ll turn into a half pig hybrid or some shit?” 

“No,” Technoblade said, then paused “Well, he has considered you aren’t human, but I’m pretty sure you are. Nah, he thinks you’re hearing voices like do Which, is, uh, the, uh, yeah, I've been hearing voices in my head since I was a kid.” 

“Wait, you actually hear voices?” Tommy said before he could stop himself “I thought you and Phil were just fucking with me about the Chat since I broke-!” Tommy cut himself off but it was too late. It was too late. 

Tommy found himself staring up at Technoblade in horror because he hadn’t meant to say that, he hadn’t meant to let something about the future slip, but in a moment of weakness (weak, he was so weak, always so weak, behind his stupid bravado) he’d fucking let it slip. Technoblade’s face was neutral. Too neutral. 

“Tommy,” Technoblade said, in a carefully neutral voice that reminded Tommy far too much of that day in the ruins of the community house. Despite the heavy cloak, he still felt cold chills run down his back. “How did you know about the Chat?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My computer is on 13% I must type fast. I hope you all enjoy this! The next chapter is like half-written and was originally part of this one, I just liked the ending here. Hopefully that means that the next one soon since I know what's happening. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! The next chapter will clear up why Tommy shouldn't know about chat, and in the next like 2 or so sort how he time traveled. 
> 
> Also more Wilbur angst soon.


	10. not where I belong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy and Techno finish their chat. Tommy ponders the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the last lines of dialogue in the last chapter, so if you read them in the first like 24 hours they were posted, go reread it, because I messed something up. It is a small change but it kinda cleared some stuff up. 
> 
> TW for a vague description of a panic attack, but it's super vague. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

Technoblade was trying not to jump to conclusions, mostly because he had no reasonable conclusions to jump to. 

Tommy had entered their life after the worst of Technoblade’s voices had come in, and even then, he was far too young to be told about it. Phil had told Technoblade and Wilbur that they weren’t to tell Tommy under any circumstance. Mostly, because Tommy couldn’t keep his mouth shut, which seemed to still be an issue. 

Technoblade no longer really cared if people thought he was crazy- He probably  _ was  _ crazy- but he was almost certain that they hadn’t told Tommy. Except, somehow, Tommy knew about it. That was… concerning, especially since Tommy said that he thought Phil and him were just fucking with him. That implied that Technoblade had told him- or at least mentioned it, but he hadn’t It was. Chat definitely thought it was concerning. 

**_Mindreader?_ **

**_Can he hear us?_ **

**_Scream if you can hear us, Tommy!_ **

**_Blood!_ **

**_He can’t hear us, dipshits, Phil probably told him._ **

**_Technobro!_ **

**_Phil didn’t tell him! He shouldn’t know!_ **

**_Siblingblade!_ **

**_Weird that he knew this, and had some random fighting skills he can’t explain, right?_ **

**_Brother bonding Pog!_ **

**_Good point, what if he isn’t really Tommy?_ **

**_AngstInnit!_ **

**_Blood!_ **

**_That’s definitely Tommy. He’s too annoying to be anyone else._ **

**_What if-_ **

Technoblade gritted his teeth as he forcefully pulled his attention away from Chat, which was going nuts. None of their theories were helpful- they rarely were in situations like this. especially when they started screaming about conspiracy theories. 

Tommy cracked a nervous grin. He’d been staring at Technoblade with poorly concealed horror but was now looking anywhere but Technoblade’s face, as he just straight up lied “Well, uh Wilbur told me! He- uh- he was mad at you or something and told me-”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” Technoblade interrupted, frowning as Tommy flinched. The kid was on the verge of panic. Again. Ender, this kid was nothing but all ball of nerves anymore.. Technoblade was  _ not  _ qualified for this job. “Wilbur wouldn’t have cared enough to tell you first of all-” 

“But he did!’ Tommy exclaimed, and there was more than a hint of desperation in his tone “He, uh, told me you heard fucking voices and that I was a Big Man so I had a right- ” 

“Tommy,  _ you said _ that you thought Phil and I were messing with you. I know for a fact I’ve never told you about Chat and I’m almost certain Phil hasn’t either. So, how did you know?” Technoblad tried to keep his voice even, but he could help the impatience in his voice. Tommy was lyin’ to him and not even lying well! But, Tommy was tense and Technoblade wasn’t certain the kid wasn’t going to bolt, so he tried to pull back his tone. He tried, okay. “Tommy, you’re a terrible liar. Just tell me the truth. I’m not angry- I won’t be angry, unless you keep lyin’ to me.” 

Tommy shook his head, still refusing to look at Technoblade. “ “I-I can't tell you. I- really can’t tell you, damn it.”

“You can’t tell me,” Technoblade repeated, trying to sound gentle. He was pretty sure it wasn’t working super well, based on Tommy’s expression “And why not?” 

“You-you won’t believe me.” Tommy’s voice cracked and the kid started crying  _ again _ . Technoblade had no idea what to do with that, especially not as Tommy continued, sounding pretty much full panicked now. The tiny bit of bravado he’d been holding onto was long gone, not more Big Man, or any other of his usual gimmicks. Technoblade wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Tommy so worked up- as a kid, Phil and Wilbur had always taken care of Tommy’s meltdowns, few and far between as they were. Even then, Techno was pretty sure he’d never seen Tommy this torn up. It pained him. Tommy was annoying, but a good kid. He didn’t deserve… whatever this was. . “It's- you wouldn’t fucking believe me. And if you did, bad things would happen. Terrible things. I-I can’t let them happen. Not again. I’ve already fucked this up..”

Technoblade’s brown raised in surprise as Tommy buried his face in his hands, seemingly talking to himself more than Technoblade. He still had no idea how Tommy could know about the Chat. What did that even  _ mean _ ? Like really, what the heck could that mean? And what did he say to that? Technoblade studied him a moment and suppressed a sigh. He had no idea what he was doing. Why did people seem to think  _ he  _ was the one for this job? 

“Tommy,” Techno said, “Tommy look at me.” 

The kid didn’t move- Technoblade could see his shoulders shaking, and it wasn’t from the cold- “I can’t.” Tommy mumbled “I’m too fucking stupid. I-I can’t. I can’t believe I’ve already-” 

Technoblade felt helpless as he watched Tommy seemingly spiral, brother breathing rapid and shallow. He hated that. He was Technoblade, he shouldn’t be sitting in the woods, watching  ~~ his kid brother ~~ Tommy have some sort of panic attack, because his hands were built for weapons and for fighting. His brain worked in attack strategies not… emotions. Phil or Wilbur, heck even Tubbo was probably better suited for this than him, and he was a kid! Phil had only sent Technoblade because he thought Tommy was losing his mind (which seemed to be an increasingly valid assessment) which still didn’t make sense because it wasn’t like Technoblade had ever gotten rid of the voices. 

But, that’s where he was. A little bit cold, more concerned about Tommy than he wanted to be, and a little stressed because the chat wouldn’t stop screaming at him for various reasons. And, he couldn’t just let Tommy have a complete breakdown, more so than he already was. Techno wasn't sure if Tommy was crying anymore, since he’d stopped mumbling, but he could see that the kid was still trembling and his breathing was way too fast. He awkwardly laid a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and Tommy didn’t even react, which Technoblade took as a bad sign, since Tommy had pretty much avoided all physical touch possible, with the exception of Tubbo( and apparently one hug with Wilbur,). 

“Tommy, breath with me, alright?” Technoblade said quietly. Phil had taught him how to do this when he was a kid. Used it on him a few times, when the voices got real bad. Some nights, Technoblade had to do this himself, when the voices got too loud and too much. 

“In for one, two, three, four.” Techno coached, as Tommy drew in a shuddering breath, “Now hold it. Good, now, uh, let it out, real slow.” 

Tommy couldn’t quite match the pace at first, as Technoblade counted the breaths out for him, but slowly Tommy’s breathing evened and deepened, to match Technoblade’s quiet counting. After a few minutes, Tommy finally lifted his head. 

“Sorry.’ He croaked “I-I didn’t mean to do all that. I’m fine, though. Really. You-You, don’t need to worry about it, Technoblade. I’m a big man, not a pussy who can’t-” 

“Shut up for a minute, Tommy'' Technoblade said. Tommy fixed Technoblade with a glare, but snapped his mouth shut, crossing his arms. Technoblade felt a little guilty at the harshness of his tone, but he really needed Tommy to listen. Tommy was falling apart, and if nothing else, Phil had trusted him to help Tommy as he’d helped Technoblade years ago. Techno couldn’t let him down. And,  _ maybe _ , Tommy was still important to him.

“Look, I’m not gonna pretend I know what’s going on in your head because I’m pretty sure it's not that same what's happenin’’ in mine. But, I do know something’s wrong kid. I mean, you were just cryin’ and had a panic attack for Pete’s sake. '' Tommy’s glare hardened and Technoblade grimaced “Just listen. I have no idea how you know about Chat, and if you don’t tell me, I’m just gonna assume that it’s hallucinations. But whatever it is, I’ll believe you kid, even if it sounds crazy. I’m probably the best you got, in that department” 

“Its-It’s not in my fucking head, you bitch,’ Tommy snarled, suddenly back to angry, instead of afraid. ”I- I don’t. It’s not-” 

Technoblade was trying to be patient. He  _ really  _ was. But damn, if the kid didn’t make it hard. “I get it, they probably feel real, But they aren’t Tommy. So, please, just tell me what’s goin’ on before you hurt yourself or someone else.” 

Technobalde watched as emotions played across Tommy’s face, and he was almost sure that Tommy wasn't going to give him anything. The kids just looked so angry and his eyes just looked haunted, even more so than they had all week, and even though the kid was a teenager, he looked so small in Technobalde’s cloak. It reminded Technoblade of those first few weeks Tommy had lived with them, half-wild and terrified of letting anyone but Wilbur near him for long periods of time, hoarding food and whatever else he could get his hands on, terrified every time anyone got close to his stuff. This Tommy was worse than that now- there wasn't just fear or panic, but anger. Bitterness. The kid was being haunted by something, and Technoblade had no idea what. 

“If I tell you, you have to swear- swear on your life, all your lives-” Tommy said finally, “That you won’t tell anyone. Not Phil, not Wilbur, not, not Tubbo. Not one fucking soul” 

“If you tell me the truth, I swear it,” Technoblade promised, before he even really thought about it. Phil wouldn’t be happy with that, but Tommy needed help. He’d make that promise, and if it got the kid talking, he’d keep it. 

Tommy nodded and squared his shoulders. Technoblade watched with morbid fascination as Tommy somehow managed to shutter his face, expression going blank. It made Technoblade’s gut twist. That was the look of a soldier, not the kid Tommy should be. 

“I’m from the future. Somehow, I fucking time traveled” 

\---

Technoblade blinked once. Then again. There was no way he heard that correctly. Tommy had said he was from the future. That he time traveled. 

**_Time Travel!_ **

**_Time Travel!_ **

**_Time Travel Pog!_ **

**_Future Tommy?_ **

**_AngstInnit!_ **

**_I knew it!_ **

**_Pog!_ **

**_Time Travel?_ **

**_He’s lying!_ **

**_Time Travel!_ **

**_No, looked- he’s freaked out. He’s telling the truth._ **

**_Time Travel!_ **

**_Time Travel?_ **

**_Time Travel Pog!_ **

Okay, so he  _ did  _ hear that correctly, based on what Chat was screaming, very unhelpfully, in his mind. 

“The future?” Technoblade repeated, trying very, very hard not to sound as skeptical as he felt because while he’d seen some really weird shit, time travel was still just a little far out there for him. Especially Tommy, human Tommy, who was still just a  _ kid _ . 

“About two years in the future, to be exact,” Tommy said. His tone was clipped and rushed “ I really didn’t aim to tell anyone this, especially not you, so that’s fucking ironic. You’d probably laugh because it’s really funny except you have no idea why. But, yeah I wasn't going to say anything but I’ve already fucked it up, so figured I might as well finish the job. Just like usual, can’t quite manage to do anything right, except what’s fucking wrong-” 

“Woah, hold on Tommy.” Technoblade said, bringing a hand to his forehead, as if that would stave off the massive headache building, “I’m going to need you to slow down for me. I’m still trying to process the fact that you think you time traveled.” Because time travel wasn’t real. It simply didn’t exist, which meant that Tommy’s problems were deeper than they realized. Was the kid just fully delusional? That wouldn’t explain the Chat, though, because Tommy was definitely lying about Wilbur telling him, and he literally had no way of knowing. His head throbbed already. 

“Hey!” Tommy exclaimed, jumping up. The anger, at least, was more like the Tommy he was used to though “I don’t think I fucking time traveled. I know I did! I’m not crazy, you bitch, I-I know that I’m in the past. You said you would believe me!” 

Technoblade winced, both because Tommy was now shouting, which was not a great addition to the screaming in his own head and because that was technically true. “Well, that was before you tried to spring time travel on me, Tommy. I’m sorry if I’m having just a little trouble believing you that you somehow managed to come back in time at what, 16?” 

Tommy just glared at him, shaking his head “I knew it. I can’t believe I thought- I knew I should’ve kept my mouth shut. Or lied. Fuck you.” 

Tommy was shaking- Technoblade could  _ see  _ Tommy shaking and it was a mix of rage and fear on the kid’s face that finally made Technoblade cave. “Wait, no, Tommy, look. It- listen, you gotta understand how this sounds. I come back, you’ve just gotten out of a coma, where apparently you were out of your mind, you’ve been acting weird, and now you claim that you’re from the future? I just-” 

And now that he thought about it, it kinda made sense, how Tommy was better at fighting than he should be, the haunted look in the kid’s eye, and the weird line about Chat. But, if that was true, then what the hell happened to shake Tommy up so badly? The kid had been terrified and seemed one wrong look away from panic. What future did he see, or think that he was in, that would make him so shaken. So bitter. Techno didn’t like what that implied. 

“I believe you.” Technoblade said, cutting off Tommy’s rant about… well...he honestly hadn’t been listening to Tommy, since he was trying to wrap his mind around the idea of time travel being real “I’ve considered it, and while I have no clue how you managed it, I believe you.” 

Or, at least he  _ mostly  _ believed it. Technoblade was a man of logic. Ration. Someone just… time traveling didn’t make sense to him. But, he at least believed that Tommy truly thought he’d been in the future, though telling the kid that probably wouldn’t help anything. 

“You believe me?” Tommy said, almost skeptically, even as Technoblade  _ watched  _ the tension fall from his shoulders. “I thought it would take more fucking convincing than that.” 

“Tommy, you’re a horrible liar.” Technoblade said bluntly “And there is also literally no reason for you to make this up. Like, what would you gain? It would also explain the weird things I’ve noticed you doing.” 

“You noticed?” Tommy asked, frowning. “I guess I’m not fucking surprised. But I thought I was doing pretty damn well hiding it.” 

“Everyone knows something is up.” Technoblade deadpanned.”Like, I’m pretty sure everyone knows something is up.” Did the kids really think he was fooling anyone? Yikes. 

“Fuck” Tommy said, finally dropping back onto the log beside Technoblade. Good. he’d been half worried Tommy was going to bolt. Tommy’s hands were still shaking as he ran one through his hair “But you really aren’t going to tell Phil or anyone about this? At all?” 

Technoblade suppressed a grimace. Phil, if he ever found out (which he probably would, since Tommy was a horrible liar), was going to be pissed. He would probably want to know that his youngest son was honest to Ender time traveler. But, Technoblade had promised Tommy. Techno was nothing, if not a man of his word. “I promised you I wouldn’t Tommy,” Technoblade said. “I still think that you should probably tell them- they will probably be more helpful than-” 

“No.” Tommy snapped, then took a breath. “I don’t want to tell anyone else. Not even Tubbo” 

“Why not?” Technoblade asked, “They’re way better suited to the whole, helping you work through your issues thing than me.” 

Tommy gave him a glare, but this one was more along the lines of one of Tommy’s normal glares- just annoyed. “First of all, I don’t have  _ issues. I'm _ totally fine! I just had a few nightmares! Time travel just fucked up my brain a little. But it’s all good now! And, the reason I can’t tell anyone, well. It… it might, uh, mess up the future. Timelines and shit. I’ve already messed it up enough, by making you come home.” 

That definitely wasn’t the truth, or at least not all of it. Man, he needed to teach the kid how to lie better, because honestly? Unacceptable. Normally, he’d call the bullshit and force answers. Part of him wanted to, because really? Time travel? But, Tommy looked exhausted, and the sun was steadily climbing in the sky. It would be noon soon, and Phil wanted them back. If Phil came out here while Tommy was shouting about time travel that would probably make everything worse. Even if it would mean that Technoblade got to leave earlier… no! He couldn’t do that. 

The kid had given Technoblade an answer. A crazy, crazy answer that honestly made no sense, and gave him more questions than answers, but he had given Technoblade the bare minimum, which is all he’d really asked for. Whether the kid really was from the future or was experiencing some sort of weird hallucination, he needed help. And unfortunately, it appeared that Technoblade was the one who would be giving it to him. 

He could break his promise to Tommy, but at the idea, half his chat was shouting, and honestly? If he broke that trust… based on what Phil told him and what he’d seen with his own two eyes, he had no idea what Tommy would do. 

So, he bit back the million burning questions he had and nodded. “Alright. Tommy, I won’t tell them, and I’ll do my best to try and keep them from finding out. But, I’m gonna need more from you, since I’ll be lyin’ to everyone, including Phil.” 

Tommy’s face was instantly wary. “What do you want from me.” 

“Answers.” Technobalde said, honestly “Listen, if I’m going to help you, I need to know what I’m working with. I have a bunch of questions” 

Tommy shook his head. “No, no. Technoblade, I- there are things I can’t tell you. They’re, uh, too dangerous to the timeline! Yeah! I can’t fuck it up too much. I can’t answer, well much of anything. Unfortunately. You know how it is. ” 

“I really don’t know,” Technoblade said dryly. “I’ve never time traveled. But, listen. You don’t have to answer all my questions right now since we need to get back to the house. I won’t even make you tell me tonight. Tomorrow though, we’re taking another walk. You’re going to show me that disarming move, then we’re going to have a long talk about this, okay kid?” 

Tommy looked like he wanted to argue but eventually just nodded, getting to his feet. “Fine. We’ll discuss this tomorrow, or whatever. Better not fucking tell anyone that I cried out here either.” 

Techno laughed, but it was mostly forced. He had far too many questions without answers, a teenager who was either totally crazy or from the future, and a promise that basically meant he was stuck on this server until he helped that annoying kid work through his issues. Great. What could go wrong? (Chat, that was a rhetorical question, Chat please). Tommy needed him though, especially if he was going to try and hide this from Phil (which, in Techno’s opinion was a dumb move), and Techno couldn’t bring himself to break his promise, even if he easily could. Even if Tommy wasn’t  _ really  _ his brother. 

“Now, Tommy I didn’t make any promises about that.” he teased, trying to make the mood lighter than it was. Tommy’s glower meant that it sort of worked “Let's go get lunch before we give Phil any grey feathers” 

\--- 

Tommy was laying in his bed, staring at the ceiling. 

He’d spent part of the afternoon with Wilbur, who was writing a new song. He’d normally never, ever be caught dead doing that, because it was boring. But, the only song Wilbur had sung in Pogtopia was that stupid national anthem, and Ghostbur didn’t really sing much, and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he missed Wilbur’s singing. 

It made him sound like a pussy, but it was true. And since he’d already cried on Techno of all fucking, and probably sentenced himself to death via astronomical fuck up, he figured he may as well enjoy it while he could. Tommy had climbed into the attic space Wilbur liked to write songs in after he'd heard the notes drifting down, and Wilbur had allowed him to stay. He’d worked on crafting a few random things, using iron nuggets and string, just for fun, but mostly he’d just listened to Wilbur play. 

Eventually, he couldn’t stand the small space so he’d crawled out of the attic, claiming he was tired, grabbed some bread for dinner, and had retreated to his room, thankfully avoiding both Phil and Technoblade. 

Tommy was... Honestly, he didn’t really feel anything. He’d used up pretty much every drop of emotion he had left (and honestly, Tommy hadn’t even realized he had so much emotion left at all) during his absolute meltdown in the woods. 

Ironically, the last big panic attack he’d had Technobalde had also been the one to talk him down from it. It hadn’t been long after he’d left exile and he couldn’t even quite remember what caused it. Techno had gotten him to calm down though. Since his exile was over, and doomsday, and nearly dying, and Tubbo nearly dying, and putting Dream in prison he hadn’t let himself have enough time to ponder it all, let alone have a panic attack. 

He blamed time travel completely for his emotional instability because Tommy wasn’t normally such a pussy. However, he was being a bit of a little bitch, and was considering his fate. 

He had ruined everything already, so why did it matter? Technoblade wasn’t supposed to be here, so he had no fucking idea what that would do to the timeline and now Technboalde knew about him being from the future. Tommy had been worried Techno was going to force the answers from him then and there- he’d already been trying to come up with some lies that might not fall apart instantly, but Techno had backed off. 

At least for a while. He’d have questions that Tommy had to answer. And while the threat wasn’t explicit, he would tell Phil and Wilbur, which was just a bad idea. Even though he was most worried about Technoblade killing him outright, if he ever found out about how Tommy betrayed him or killing Wilbur for the Pogtopia war mess, the other two finding out… 

Wilbur was too likely to run straight to the Dream SMP if Tommy told him. Wilbur would love nothing more than to be a revolutionary and if he thought that somehow, he could use Tommy’s information to win a fucking war, he’d probably do it. And Phil… Phil would not only hate him for betraying Technobalde, but would probably hate him for letting Wilbur get so bad, and for everything else he’d done. Tommy wasn’t even sure what had been right and what had been wrong. 

Tommy had to keep Technoblade on his side. 

Besides, it might, if the stars aligned just right, work out in his favor. 

Technoblade leaving had caused the issues to begin with. If Technoblade stayed, Phil might stay longer. He wouldn’t have the big fight with Wilbur, which ultimately led to both Phil and Wilbur leaving, and Tubbo and Tommy shortly after that. If Techno stayed, then Phil wouldn’t be able to go off with him like last time. 

Maybe… maybe this could work. As long as Tommy didn’t tell Technoblade about certain things, then he’d be fine, right? And as long as he was careful about what exactly it could be fine. Yeah, cause careful had worked real fucking well today. He couldn’t quite muster up the energy to feel anything but angry at himself. He’d been so stupid, just blurting that out. 

But, he’d made his bed, as they said. And Tommy had nowhere to go. Nothing to do but try and fix this stupid mess that he’d made, and prevent the ones he’d made in the future. If that was even possible. All he seemed to do was make messes. 

Even as a kid, he’d only made messes. He was certain that none of those things would have happened in the future if Wilbur hadn’t bothered with him on the street those years ago.

\-- 

_ Tommy was glad it was summer. Summer was much better than winter since it wasn’t cold. He could always find way more food, and it took way longer for mobs to spawn since daylight lasted so much longer.  _

_ It was also easier to hide since he didn’t have to try and keep warm.  _

_ Summer also meant more people out and about, which meant he could steal from them easier. Villagers were really easy to steal from, but the Iron Golem was getting suspicious of him, so he’d been hungry the last few days, unable to go in any houses. He had stolen from the garden, but raw potatoes weren’t very good and made his stomach hurt.  _

_ He needed other humans.  _

_ He’d been kicked out of the caravan he as with, for stealing food, and he’d been stranded in the stupid village for a month. He was pretty sure the caravan wasn't coming back. In that whole time, he hadn’t seen another human. Only villagers.  _

_ He wasn’t really old enough to work and didn’t speak fluent villager, so he was starting to get worried. What if the caravan didn’t come back? Tommy was 5 but wasn’t stupid. He couldn’t survive like this forever.  _

_ Then, he saw a human.  _

_ Not only a person but a kid like him. He was older, and way taller than Tommy, but still a kid, without any adults. He could probably steal from him after he got his trades. Tommy could probably follow him home and scare him. That’s what older caravan kids did. They scare people into giving them stuff. So he could probably do it, even if he was still kinda small.  _

_ Probably.  _

_ So, he waited until the boy was done trading, watching warily from behind a post, then, went to follow the boy. Except, the boy was headed right for him. Tommy froze, eyes wide, as the boy approached. He was tall and lanky, and kinda intimidating. Tommy debated running, but the older boy looked fast and he was too scared to move.  _

_ “Hello there!” the boy sought brightly “I noticed you watching me. I didn’t know any other kids lived near the village. Did your parents just move here?”  _

_ “I-” Tommy’s voice stuck “No! I don’t have parents. I live here now, though.”  _

_ The boy frowned, though Tommy wasn’t sure why. Most people didn’t have parents, right? “You’re a bit young to be living on your own, aren’t you?”  _

_ “I’m 5!” Tommy said, crossing his arms grumpily “I’m a big man!’  _

_ “Ah, I’m sure you are.” he said “My name’s Wilbur. Are you hungry?”  _

_ Tommy wanted to say no- admitting you were hungry and asking for food only made other people angry because it was selfish- but his stomach growled loudly at that exact moment and he flushed dark red as Wilbur laughed. “Sounds like it. Do you want to come with me? I don’t live far from here and I can fix you some lunch!”  _

_ Tommy hesitated. Wilbur seemed nice, but that didn’t always mean he was nice. The caravan people had sometimes been nice, but then, if he asked for too much, they weren’t. And he always had to do something, in order to get his food. “What do you want?” he asked, as he glared up at the boy.  _

_ “What do you mean?” Wilbur asked, looking confused.  _

_ “Well, you obviously aren’t going to feed me for free, dumbass,” Tommy said, using one of the grownup words he knew. “What do I have to do to earn my food?”  _

_ Wilbur made an expression that Tommy couldn’t place. He looked sad or surprised or something. Weirdo. Finally, the older boy said “Nothing? I’m just offering you food. You don’t have to earn it.”  _

_ Tommy scoffed “Yeah right. I know that stupid trick. I don’t wanna owe you one. I want to pay before I eat.”  _

_ Wilbur frowned. “Well, uh, alright. You can um, pick blue flowers! My inventory is nearly full after trading, and I need blue flowers to make some blue dye. There are a bunch on the way to my house.”  _

_ Flowers. That was girly shit, but if Tommy was getting a meal for the price of a few blue flowers, he’d gladly take the trade, even if it was weird. Better than mending shit. “Okay.” he finally agreed. “Let’s go.”  _

\--- 

Tommy had picked the flowers, and Wilbur had accepted blue dye as a trade for pretty much everything the first few days Tommy stayed in the house. Finally, Wilbur convinced him it wasn’t necessary, and that he didn’t have to trade with him to get food, or clothes, or a bed. It was then, Tommy decided he wasn’t going to run away. Of course, by that point, Wilbur probably wouldn’t have let him leave even if Tommy wanted to. When Phil got back, he’d been so scared he was going to be sent back, but he hadn’t been. Once Phil had officially taken him in, Wilbur had given him his first gift- his first real possession. Tommy had kept the blue blanket Wilbur made for him from that blue dye until he left the server with Tubbo. 

It was folded in the chair beside his bed, faded and a little worn, but there. Tommy didn’t realize there was a lump in his throat until he felt the tears well in his eyes. Ender, he was such as pussy, crying over a stupid blanket. 

But, if he covered his bed with the blanket, even if it was already too warm in his room, Tommy would never admit it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda hate this chapter, but I feel like it is finally presentable. I have rewritten it like 3 times and I just don't feel like its going to meet ya'lls expectations. rip. Anyway, I also do not know how to write children don't come for me. 
> 
> uhh, you guys are not ready for the next few chapters because I have plans, and some is already written. I actually made myself cry writing one part so rip to you guys. 
> 
> Yeah if you hated this one as much as I did please don't tell me I will cry. I think I spent too much time in the cold this week and it froze my writer brain.
> 
> Last thing: ranboo s stream today made me cry, and I’m very happy for him. He deserves all that and more!


	11. and it's and old scar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil needs a nap, Tommy remebers the future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be another chapter this week since it is 90% written (and was originally part of this chapter) and hopefully a third this weekend. This one isn't particularly angsty, or fluffy, mostly just some plot. I actually have a plot now too, and am roughly estimating 20 -25 chapters total? Don't hold me to it though.

Philza was tired. He’d dragged himself out of bed with the dawn, but he was exhausted. He’d not managed to sleep much the night before- hadn’t in weeks, and it was weighing on him. He was sitting at the kitchen table, just thinking. He’d aimed to make a to-do list, but he just had a blank sheet of paper in front of him, taunting him, as he simply wished to go back to sleep. But, he didn’t really have time for that. 

Tommy was more himself every day, it seemed, but somehow, he was also less himself. Sure he was loud again, hanging out with Tubbo and arguing with practically anyone, but he was still nervous. Phil could see the way he sat, tense like he was ready to run at any time. He seemed to cling to Tubbo more than he did sometimes, and Phil caught him looking almost… sad, at random times. He still avoided Phil and until the day before, Technoblade. 

And Wilbur seemed extra moody, hiding up the attic constantly, unless he was doing his chores, eating, or spending time with Tubbo and Tommy, which wasn’t much, though sometimes Wil just liked his space, though, so he wasn’t too concerned. Especially not when Tommy was still... Not well. At least Technoblade seemed himself, though that wasn’t always comforting, considering. Almost as if summoned by Phil’s thoughts, he heard the telltale sign of someone coming down the stairs, footsteps too heavy to be Wilbur, but too light for Tommy. 

“Morning Techno,” Phil said, as his eldest came into the kitchen. Even if Technoblade denied it, Technoblade was his eldest son. “Sleep well?” 

Technoblade looked, for the most part, like he was ready to go. His long pink hair was tied at the base on his neck, and he was already dressed in everything but his cloak, mask, and helmet- Phil could see the glinting Netherite under his clothes. Phil wasn't surprised, considering he’d heard Techno moving around for the last half-hour or so, but it was still strange, to see his son wearing armour in his own house. Phil had a feeling he wouldn't like the reason why Techno wore it constantly, so he didn’t ask. 

“Good enough,” Technoblade said amicably, which wasn’t really the answer that Phil was looking for. But, Phil didn’t press, since he supposed he had no room to argue. 

“Good. How was your walk with Tommy yesterday? You all were a bit late for lunch, and both of you seemed to vanish after that.” Tommy had been oddly quiet during lunch, shoveling his food down in record time, then promptly vanishing. Techno hadn’t had much to say either. Phil could tell he was distracted and kept casting poorly discussed looks of concern in the direction Tommy had vanished. But, before Phil could ask, Techno was back out the door. He hadn’t been back when Phil finally fell asleep, but Phil had noticed the smelter going when he woke up, processing a new stack of iron ore. 

Technoblade shrugged “Eh, it was fine. Didn’t try to run from me, so that was a plus. Did cry on me a little, which I didn’t appreciate.” 

Phil frowned “What happened? Did he say something about what’s going on?” 

Technoblade shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Ah, well, sorta?” 

Phil slumped with relief. Progress. They were finally making progress on whatever was going on with Tommy. “That’s great! I dunno how you managed to get it out of his, but I’m glad you did. What did he say then?” 

Technoblade cringed slightly, and Phil’s relief dampened. It couldn’t have been too bad, or Technoblade would’ve already told him since, while Techno was good at many things, but he wasn't always good at emotions. “Well, uh, I can’t tell you.” 

“You can’t tell me?” Phil repeated. He had been expecting Techno to say Tommy had refused to say anything really important, but even just Tommy admitting there was a problem, well, that could be considered progress. But Technoblade not being able to tell him? “What the fuck do you mean by that?” 

Technoblade shrugged “Well, the kid made me promise that I wouldn’t tell anyone what he said. Specifically you. And I promised him I wouldn’t.” 

“Are you fucking serious?” Phil asked, even though it was obvious Technoblade was. He took a deep breath, trying not to shout. He trusted his eldest, but he’d hardly slept in the last two weeks, and this was the last thing he needed. 

“Listen, Phil, I promised- Good morning Tommy!” Technoblade said, cutting himself off. Phil turned around to see Tommy eyeing them warily at the edge of the kitchen. “Ready to go?” 

Phil turned back to Technoblade, who was already back on his feet, pulling his cloak around his shoulders. He shot him a look, and Technoblade pursed his lips. Message received, at least. That conversation wasn’t over and TEhcnbolade knew it. They’d have to come back eventually and Phil, while patient, would be getting his answers. “Where are you two going?” he asked, as Tommy headed for the door. 

“Tommy’s goin’ to show me that disarming move he tried on me yesterday.” Technoblade said, “Then I have a few things to show him. Kid’s could be quite a fighter, based on what I saw yesterday.” And Phil had noticed yesterday, that Tommy held his own against Technoblade far better than he expected. Tommy was good at sparring. He wasn’t quite as natural as Techno was (but then again, no one was) but Tommy still had an affinity for it, that should he apply himself, could make him dangerous. 

However, Tommy lacked discipline in his training. He sparred sometimes, but Tommy was always bouncing from one idea to the next. Phil wasn’t sure when Tommy had gotten so much better, but it had been quite some time since he’d sparred with Tommy, admittedly, so he couldn’t tell when Tommy had gotten better. That also meant Phil wasn’t exactly sure how Tommy had gotten better. 

“I’m already dangerous, fuck you,” Tommy said, glaring up at Technoblade. “MY middle name is danger!” 

“Mate, I can say that it definitely isn’t,” Phil said, more than a little glad to at least hear Tommy sounding like himself, even if there was something going on that they weren’t telling him “You don’t have a middle name.” 

Tommy crossed his arms “Whose fuckin’ fault is that” 

“Wilbur’s the one who brought you home.” Phil pointed out, “Take it up with him.” 

“I’m Tommy Danger Innit!” Tommy said proudly “I gave myself the name, too late.” 

“That’s a dumb name.” Technboalde said, “But come on, daylight is a burnin’, and I got things to do other than babysit you.” 

“You aren’t babysitting me” Tommy protested “You offered to train me! And, your name is literally Technoblade. That isn’t even a name!” 

“Whatever,” Tehcnbolade said as he ushered Tommy out the door. Philza let out a long sight as the door clicked shut behind them, and he buried his face in his hands. Tommy, apparently, had at least acknowledged something was going on, but Techno wouldn’t tell him? 

That sounded more like Wilbur, than Techno. Techno didn’t tell him everything, but this was kinda fucking important and since Tommy had obviously not wanted to talk to him or Wilbur, he thought maybe Techno could shake it out of him. And apparently, it had, but instead of it getting Phil the answers he needed, Techno was keeping secrets. 

And it was… strange. Technoblade liked Tommy, sure, but Phil wouldn’t pretend to fool himself into thinking that they were close. 

So, what happened that made Technoblade agree not to tell Phil anything? He wasn't scared- he trusted Techno- but he was still worried about Tommy. Phil was getting too old for this, he decided, as he allowed himself a few more minutes of peace. 

\----

“Am I really going to show you that move?” Tommy asked, after finally stopping his rambling. He’d just talked, mostly to fill the silence that hung heavy between them, but  _ perhaps  _ because he might be a tiny bit nervous. Just a little. Never admit that though, it wasn’t very pog to be nervous, he’d survived literal wars for fuck’s sake. He could handle a little lie to Technoblade, or, at least dance around the truth. 

He’d just chatted a lot, about absolutely nothing, since it felt like they'd walked forever and the silence was boring. They’d gone past the sparring pit and were in a clearing in the woods, a pretty good distance from the house. It made Tommy a little uneasy, but the longer he spent around Technoblade, the more he was certain that he wasn’t in imminent danger, so long as he carefully worded his answers. This Technoblade, while still the same, seemed more… human. A little less obsessed with anarchy shit.”Or was that just the fucking excuse, to get me away from Phil?” 

“Oh, no, I want you to show me that.” tEchno said, as he turned to face Tommy, offering him a stone sword. “I mean, you didn’t quite get it, but it seemed very effective if you could.” 

Tommy barked a laugh because he couldn’t help it. “What’s so funny?” Techno asked as he 

Tommy debated answering but figured it couldn’t hurt. It wouldn’t tell tEchnoblade much that he probably didn’t already know. . “You showed it to me, bitch. No fucking clue where you learned it, but I learned it from you.” 

“Huh,” Technoblade said but didn’t elaborate further and the look on his face was worse than almost anything he could have said. It was the stupid look, where Tommy could tell his brain was just firing away, trying to figure out what Tommy meant. Technoblade seemed like an oaf, all brawn, but he was just as smart as Wilbur, in his own way. Tommy had learned of that cold intelligence the hard way. He fucking hates it being pointed at him. It never ended well for him.``Well, let’s get to it.” 

Tommy cracked a grin, even though unease still sat heavy in his chest at the idea of turning his sword against Technoblade. The last time he’d done so was still a little fresh. He’d spent the last two years fighting, a sword in his hands felt more natural than anything else he’d done since he’d been in the past.``Sure, just be ready for me to destroy you, bitch. ” 

\---- 

“Ready to answer some questions, Tommy?” Technoblade said, and even though there was still snow on the ground Tommy was just laying in it. He didn’t fucking care anymore. They’d practiced the disarming move for what felt like an hour, though Tommy wasn’t totally sure. His arms were still far weaker than he was used to and his arms burned from the exertion that would have normally been pretty much nothing to him. Guess war made you fit or some shit. 

“I already told you I might not answer, can’t mess up the timelines,” Tommy warned, which, in his opinion, was a pretty good lie. Techno didn’t know shit about time travel (not that Tommy did) but it sounded like a line out of one of those stupid bitch books Wil or Technoblade liked to read. 

Tommy couldn’t quite tell if Technoblade believed him or not- his face was impassive, even without the pig skull mask. It was strange seeing Techno without it, his face exposed. Even when they were living together, Technobalde had pretty much worn his mask constantly. He could only think of a few times that Techno had taken it off around Tommy. But, even with his face out in the open, Tommy couldn’t get a read on Techno. 

“You’ve already told me, and I’m sworn to secrecy. How can it mess the timeline up anymore?” Techno questioned. 

Tommy frowned “It just can! What do you know about time travel, bitch?” 

“What do you know?” Technoblade shot back “Do you know how you did it? ” 

Tommy sighed, still sprawled in the snow. It was cold and wet, but it also felt good, through his coat. “Honestly, I’ve got no fucking idea. I didn’t come back here on purpose, not when things were finally- Not when I had a life going. I was in the middle of things. Big things!” Tommy was certain he hadn’t done it on purpose- he wasn't sure what he would have done if he’d been given a choice, but it didn’t matter. Tommy had never had the luxury of making choices, and the universe hadn’t given him a fucking choice this time either. 

“There isn't a ton of magic on this server.'' Technoblade muse with a frown, as he turned his gaze from Tommy off into the mountains ”I'm no expert, but I know Phil’s complaining to me about how hard it is enchantin’ things here. Heck, I remember how long it took to get the stuff to enchant my first sword.” 

Tommy bit back his immediate instinct to correct Technoblade, because if Techno wasn't asking, Tommy wasn’t offering. If none of them knew about the SMP, then maybe Tommy could keep them from going. Keep Wilbur and Tubbo from going anyway. . “What were you doin, in the future, right before you got zapped back?” 

Tommy frowned as he tried to recall what happened before he’d woken up in his childhood bedroom. He wasn’t planning on telling Technoblade all of it, but Tommy did want to know how it happened. Maybe some universal force had locked the memories away because the harder he focused it seemed like his memory just got fuzzier. 

“I don’t remember, exactly. I think it screwed shit up in my head a little, since I, you know, fucking time traveled. But I’m pretty sure I wasn’t doing anything magical. I wasn’t even in the Nether. I think I was on my way to Snowc - uh someone was in the woods with, well, I was off in the forest. I think I was cutting down trees. Yeah, I was cutting down trees. It was… -.” Tommy closed his eyes, trying to grasp the fuzzy images floating at the edge of his brain. He’d been in the woods, and it was a little cold, and-

_ Niki was urging him to hurry up, pulling him along, every time he stopped. She seemed a little stressed and she kept glancing over her shoulder every few seconds like she was worried about something. Like they were going to be late for whatever she wanted to show him. Tommy wanted to cut down the trees. His axe was in his hands. He needed the wood for something. Tubbo wouldn’t mind. He needed to visit Tubbo. He had been so busy with the hotel and Tubbo had been so busy with Snowchester… Tommy would see Tubbo after this. Niki was pulling him again, even as he complained. It had to be important for Niki to show him. Niki didn’t talk to him much anymore- she didn’t like him much these days.  _

_ He wondered if maybe that was changing.  _

_ They had moved and Tommy was standing alone. Niki told him to wait. She said she was getting something? She forgot something. He was cold. He hadn’t dressed for snow. Tommy wanted to leave. maybe he could cut down another- _

_ And then Tommy was flying. He was falling. Tossed up and through the air like a ragdoll. There was ash in his mouth and his lungs bruins with smoke.  _

_ The ground was cold- it was too cold and he was too hot, everything burning, blood bubbling between his lips. He could smell fire. He couldn’t move, as every nerve in his body screamed. . His ears rang. Or, maybe someone was screaming. Was it him?  _

_ Someone was in his field of vision, but spots danced in front of his eyes, edges darkening. Someone had their hands on his face, leaning close. Were they screaming? They were shaking him. Tubbo. Tubbo was trying to talk to him, but everything hurt so bad. It hurt so bad, and his vision was swimming. Tubbo was screaming, maybe, and Tommy couldn’t figure out why. Tommy was the one hurting. Tommy was the one dying. He was dying. He could feel himself falling away, different than every time before. He was dying. It hurt.  _

_ He wanted Tubbo to stop screaming. But it hurt too bad. Everything hurt and he couldn’t even scream, couldn’t move, only burning, felt the blood pooling in his mouth. It hurt so much worse than any other death. It hurt so bad, and he could feel himself falling apart, feel the pull of death, so strong, so- _

“Tommy? Tommy. What’s goin’ on pal?” 

Tommy started, shooting straight up from where he’d been sprawled in the snow, nearly knocking into Technoblade, who’d crouched down beside him, looking way too concerned. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air that was cold and clean, and forced himself to look around. He was on a different server. These trees were different. His lungs still burned with phantom fire, even in the cold morning air. 

It was a different year. Not the same at all. Nowhere fucking near it. Whatever the fuck that was… it hadn’t happened yet. Tommy clenched his hands in an attempt to hide their shaking. He could feel the tremors in his fingers, and it wasn't because of the snow. He could feel the phantom pain in his lungs, and in his bones. 

Tommy squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to control his breathing, but that only made things worse. Tommy had been in explosions before but that, whatever that was- it was the worst. Dying hadn’t ever hurt so much. 

He could’ve fucking done it without ever having that memory back, thank you very much. 

“You kinda zoned out on me.” Techno said, staring at Tommy with squinted eyes “What was that about?” 

And it must’ve fucked up his brain too because he found himself answering Techno’s question before he could stop himself. Guess I unlocked a memory. Great. I think the last thing I did in the future was die. No, I know that’s what happened. Think I got fucking blown to bits by something. That’s the last thing I remember” 

“You got blown up? How? You should be able to kill a creeper, and Phil banned Tnt after, well, you remember” Techno asked, and the sheer surprise in his voice nearly made Tommy laugh out loud. And maybe it was because he’d just relieved his third and final death, which meant he was supposed to be fucking dead, not sitting in the snow by someone who had actively tried to kill him. And Tommy had almost forgotten Phil had once banned TNT in their home server since Tommy, Tubbo, and Wilbur always had a little too much fun with it. After they’d nearly brought down the house, Phil had banned them from making TNT entirely. Tubbo had honestly taken it the hardest. His best friend, while seemingly peaceful, loved shit that went boom. He supposed that hadn’t fucking changed for any of them. 

“Yeah, I don’t think it was TNT or a creeper,” Tommy muttered, still too shaken up to even bother lying. His memories weren't clear, from the last couple of days in the future, but he was almost certain that Tubbo had been planning on testing the nukes he had been given soon. Or he would do all that. Fucking time travel. Made his head hurt. .And Niki would’ve known when Tubbo was planning… Tommy felt ill. Niki had hated him, sure, but he hadn’t thought she would ever… He shook his head. That Niki didn’t exist anymore. “Doesn’t really matter though. I have three lives again. I checked the other day.” 

Techno frowned “Doesn’t matter- I’m gonna come back to that. But, to me it sounds like when you died, your respawn glitched, and sent you back in time.”

Tommy shrugged “I guess'' He had no ideas, really, because it was time-travel. Tommy didn’t know the first fucking things about it. He didn’t even know it was real until something had dumped him in the past, so he couldn’t really argue. It had to be a huge glitch, to send Tommy not just across time, but across servers. Tommy had never heard of a glitch that could cause that. 

Technoblade narrowed his eyes “You don’t sound convinced.” 

Tommy just shrugged. “I dunno, Technoblade, glitches are rare, and even then, it usually results in someone accidentally teleporting a few blocks, not ender damned time travel.” 

“Do you have any better ideas?” Technoblade asked, arching an eyebrow. Tommy scowled. He didn’t, unfortunately. A glitch just seemed too easy. TommyInnit had never had anything come easy. 

“No, I guess not,” Tommy grumbled, as much as he hated to admit it. “Doesn’t really matter, does it? I mean, I’m in the past. Doesn’t matter much how I ended up in this shit.” 

“If you plan on gettin’ back to the future-” 

Tommy barked a laugh, cutting off Technoblade. He was tired. He was angry. He was supposed to be dead, apparently, killed by Niki for the final, and honestly? He couldn’t blame her. If everyone had wanted him dead so badly, they had to be onto something right? And shit, maybe being dead would be easier than trying to deal with this time travel mess. 

“I’m not trying dying again, to go back to a fucking future where- Dying isn’t fun, Tehcnoblade,” Tommy said, trying for joking, but even he could hear the bitter note to his voice. Techno had no idea what dying was really like- still didn’t in the future. Sure he’d come close, but he still had three lives. Tommy had lost all his. Technoblade couldn’t talk about death. “I can handle it, of course, but I’m not wasting a life on that. You should understand that better than anyone.” 

“I wasn't suggestion’ we even try that Tommy.” Technoblade snapped “I’m not gonna kill you on a hunch. I was just offerin’ help to try and get you back to your time. I’ve got a couple of favors I could call in for some special enchanting books and such.” 

Tommy shook his head. “Well, we already decided it was a glitch. I can’t go back.” And he couldn’t. It didn’t matter if he wanted to or not, if it was even possible, Tommy had to stay. He had to fix things. Everything he’d done, everything the others had done. Tommy could stop it. But, he just needed Technboalde to help him, without having to explain everything. “I just, need to make sure I, uh, preserve this timeline.” 

“Tommy, you keep mentionin’ the timeline.” Technoblade said “but nothin’ specific. If I’m gonna help you ‘preserve’ it, you gotta give me somethin’” 

That’s because Tommy was lying out of his ass about the timeline and trying to preserve it, but Technoblade didn’t know that, obviously. Tommy wouldn’t mind honestly if the old timeline exploded. But, Explaining that would require explaining everything that had gone wrong. And again. Tommy wasn't about to fucking do that. Not when he could prevent his family from hating him this time. 

Tommy wanted to scream. “I-Listen Technoblade. The future wasn’t perfect. I mean, I died so that of course wasn't ideal, but there were definitely some good things about it! I have to protect those! Besides, if I mess it up, the whole world might explode, or something. ” 

Tommy really thought Technoblade wasn't going to buy it. Shit, Tommy watched the skepticism play out on Technoblade’s face. He halfway expected Technoblade to blackmail him into some more questions. It had been strange, coming downstairs, and hearing Technoblade actually tell Phil no. Because of Tommy. That had never happened before. Tommy was certain that he’d lost Techno’s favor though, from his half-assed answers and arguing. He just never could keep his mouth shut, could he? But, something shifted in Techno’s face

“Alright. That’s enough for now.” Technoblade said as he rose to his feet, dusting the snow off his cape “I’ve got more questions, but I’ve got a bit of readin’ to do. Some grindin’. Go.. hang out with Tubbo or something. We’ll talk about this later.” 

Tommy’s eyes widened in surprise as Techno turned away, waving Tommy off with a casual hand motion. He didn’t even bother to respond, just scrambled to his feet, and made a beeline for Tubbo’s house. He wasn't quite running, but he definitely jogged, until he was out of Techno’s line of sight. 

What the fuck had that been? Techno normally would’ve pushed for answers, done whatever he needed to to get them from Tommy. So why hadn’t he? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) uhh, my bad on how long it took to update. This chapter was almost 8k words long and I still wasn't done, so I just split it in half and gave ya'll a finished part. I just honestly got my ass kicked by my actual life, because college is fun, but less so when you have a job and full class load. 
> 
> 2) I got the best surprise of my life last time I updated because someone drew FANART(?!?!?!?) of my fic. So, please go check it out here: https://twitter.com/CranberryWoodz/status/1363778425178136576?s=19 . It is so good go give the artist some love! It literally made my week!!! 
> 
> 3) Now, keep the spoilers out of the comments for people who haven't seen Tommy's stream today (bc it sucks seeing spoilers if you can't watch live like me), but how ya'll doing? Ya'll coping? I'm not. I bought myself donuts. I am posting this cause I know we all need it, and the next chapter may come tonight or tomorrow bc this is how I cope but no promises. 
> 
> 4) uhhh I love you guys, and I guess that's it! You all are literally the best fans and are always so sweet to me when I don't deserve it?? also ya'll I have more hits/kudos/comments on this fic than literally all of my other fics on my other account combined. I am flattered? 
> 
> 5) Tommy and Techno featured heavily in this one, but Wilbur makes his return to the stage in the next few chapters, along with a few other familiar faces that will show up in the next little bit. Got any guesses who? They aren't in the character tags yet, but I will update them later. Also, worry not, this will still mainly be an SBI family feature. 
> 
> Anywho I've talked to much to strangers on the internet again, so I hope you enjoyed!


	12. i remember the looks on their faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur and Technoblade ponder what happens next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur lore people, it's finally happening. Not much Tommy in this one, but we get some Wilbur lore and Technoblade thought process. 
> 
> TW: implied minor self-harm, implied death? 
> 
> Enjoy!

“I want my window back. It’s too fucking dark in my room.” Tommy complained, from one side of Wilbur. Tubbo was on Wilbur’s other side, as they trudged back towards the house. 

“Well, only if you promise not to jump out of it again.” Wilbur was trying for teasing, but based on the look on Tommy’s face he felt short. It hadn’t entirely been a joke anyway. 

“It all turned out fine, didn’t it?” Tommy snapped, crossing his arms“I won’t break my window again. I promise. It’s just too fucking dark.” 

“What, are you scared of the dark now, Tommy?” Tubbo teased. 

“No! I’m not fucking scared of the dark, like some pussy. I just miss having a window, idiot.” 

“Kinda sounds like you might be.” Tubbo pressed, grinning a little. 

Tommy snapped back, protesting loudly and a little violently, as he ran around Wilbr to shove Tubbo. Tubbo shoved him right back,of course, but Wilbur couldn’t quite let himself get sucked into their argument. Normally he loved to antagonize Tommy, just as much as Tubbo did. He loved Tommy, but it was too easy to rile him up, and honestly, it was entertaining. When it wasn’t annoying. But, Tommy was a little too upset. Wilbur might not have noticed, normally, or hell, maybe he would have pushed Tommy, pissed him off until he told Wilbur about it. But here had definitely been unease. Tommy was scared of the dark? 

That was new. Tommy liked to pretend he wasn’t scared of anything, desperately trying to prove himself, to someone, Wilbur wasn’t entirely sure who, but Tommy really wasn’t scared of much, in reality. Tommy had practically no self-preservation skills, and Wilbur had always, in some ways, admired Tommy’s courage, even if the things that he and Tubbo got into would probably send him to an early grave, especially when they didn’t tell him. (they were fun, most of the time. But, if they could be just half a hair more careful…) 

So it was strange for Tommy to be scared of the dark. Tommy had never had a problem with the dark, even as a little kid, Tommy hadn’t been bothered by it. But, apparently, whatever had happened in Tommy’s head, had left him not only skittish around people. But scared of the dark too. 

“Quit it you two.” Wilbur finally snapped. They were still arguing, but it had moved on to something else entirely. “You said you had something you wanted to show us, Tubbo?” 

Tubbo and Tommy had caught him outside (and no, he wasn’t  _ avoiding  _ Technoblade. He just.. Didn’t care if he saw Techno while he was here. Wilbur just happened to need to go outside, the second Technoblade came in) and Tubbo had been practically vibrating. Apparently, he’d gotten something “awesome” and wanted to show them. Wilbur honestly had no idea what to expect. Knowing Tubbo it could be a home-built bee farm or a pit of lava, that had a natural parkour course on it. 

“We’re almost there!” Tubbo said brightly, ducking out from the loose headlock Tommy had him in. “Come on!” 

Tubbo bound ahead, Tommy hot on his heels. Wilbur didn’t bother running, keeping an eye on themes from a distance. When he finally caught up to them, Wilbur found them scrambling up the side of a small mountain, to a clearing where Wilbur could see wool targets set up. Wilbur hauled himself up the rock facing, not quite as gracefully as Tubbo had, and when he got there, Wilbur found a bow and twelve arrows in a quiver. 

“A bow?” Tommy was saying “Tubbo, that's lame, you dick, you dragged us all the way out here-” 

“Fuck off, let me finish. They’re enchanted arrows! They light shit on fire when you shoot them!” Tubbo exclaimed. And now that Tubbo mentioned it, Wilbur could see the faint shimmer of enchantment on the arrows. 

“Where the hell did you get those?” Wilbur found himself asking. “Tubbo, how did you?” 

Tubbo waved a hand “I stole them! I don’t think they were going to be used anyway so it doesn’t matter.” 

“Tubbo, who did you steal them from? Dad doesn’t keep enchanted weapons out!” Phil had his sword, of course, but even Wilbur hadn’t bothered to enchant his sword beyond mending. He knew Phil kept some very dangerous weapons in his enderchest, but of course, none of them could access it. Even then, he wasn’t sure that his dad bothered enchanting arrows. Enchanting on this server was a pain and enchanting arrows just felt like a waste. 

Tubbo shrugged “ That traveling group that came by in July. I just went when they weren’t in their little camp and stole them. They looked fun!” 

Wilbur shook his head “Tubbo, you’re lucky they didn’t catch you. Or kill you!” 

Tubbo just shrugged. “They didn’t!” 

“Yeah!” Tommy exclaimed, “Because my best friend is fucking awesome like that!” He held his hand up for a high-five and Tubbo gave it to him. 

Wilbur shook his head but grinned. “Alright, well, just don’t start a forest fire, but I want to see this in action.” 

Tubbo and Tommy both lit up with grins. They’d have done it even if Wilbur said no, but enchanted arrows did sound cool. Besides, everything was so wet with the snow, even if they missed nothing could really burn. 

Wilbur leaned against the single tree growing on the ledge as he watched them scramble to get everything set up, and bicker about who got to shoot first. Wilbur remembered the group tubbo was talking about and wasn’t entirely surprised Tubbo managed to steal from them. He’d been the one to escort them out of the server, after all. Wilbur found his hand curling around the small book in his pocket. 

_ Wilbur saw smoke rising, curing in the distance, just above the tops of the trees in the early morning light. Something like dread curled in his stomach. That was the wrong direction to be Tubbo’s house, not to mention Tubbo was sleeping on their couch as it was. The nearest village was too far to even see smoke from, and no one else lived that close.  _

_ Occasionally people wandered through, but Phil had drilled the mistrust of strangers into them since before Wilbur could even walk. Wilbur might’ve been human, worthless, to trophy hunters, but he, Tommy, and Tubbo could be used as leverage, or simply just killed as collateral damage. Wilbur didn’t remember it clearly, but once they’d almost been taken, or killed. His dad had hidden them, and when he came to get them, Wilbur remembered the blood on his hands, as he pulled them close.  _

_ Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo were human, and Phil wasn’t there, but if bounty hunters were this close, it wouldn’t matter. They’d probably just kill them. Or, more likely, it was just a random traveler, passing through. That wasn’t unheard of, his Dad driving away a stranger, occasionally giving them a bag of resources, flying high above them until they were far enough away to be safe.  _

_ But, Wilbur was the only one home. He hoped that they weren't bounty hunters. Despite being 6’5, and having a diamond Wilbur knew he wasn’t particularly intimidating. He’d always been better with convincing with words than with violence.  _

_ But, Wilbur still carried his sword by his side, just in case, as he headed out, towards the rising smoke. It didn’t take very long to come upon them, but Wilbur heard them long before he saw them.  _

_ It wasn’t hard, in the quiet of the forest, and Wilbur easily picked out three distinct voices as he slowly approached them. “I can’t believe you got us lost.” someone complained, and there was the distinct sound of someone getting a thump on the back of his head “Ow!”  _

_ “We aren’t lost.” someone else growled, sounding irritated. “Just taking a detour. Enjoying the scenery, or some shit.”  _

_ “Schlatt we’re definitely lost,” Someone else, a woman this time snapped. Her voice was accented differently than Wilbur or Tommy’s, similar to the Schlatt guy, but not as abrasive. “We’ve been wandering around this server for days!”  _

_ “We aren’t lost!” The loud guy, Schlatt, shouted, and the two promptly started shouting at each other, and the other two voices  _

_ Wilbur, despite the fact that they were shouting, relaxed. These people were definitely just lost, and Wilbur could, gladly, point them in a direction away from his house.  _

_ Wilbur made his way to their campsite, set up between several trees. A guy almost as tall as he was, with horns sprouting from his head, was screaming at a woman considerably shorter, but she was screaming right back, hands planted on her hips. A girl with pink hair was sitting by the dying fire, frowning and another guy, who was rubbing the back of his head was sitting at the edge of a makeshift tent.  _

_ “I don’t mean to interrupt, but did I hear you lot say you were lost?” Wilbur called, as he stepped into their line of sight.  _

_ “Fuck off, dickhead.” The man, Schlatt, snapped, turning a dark glare towards Wilbur “We aren’t lost.”  _

_ “Yes, we are.” the woman snapped, glaring at Schlatt “This idiot got us lost in these woods two days ago! We’ve been wandering ever since and haven’t seen another person in days! And he keeps claiming he isn’t lost.”  _

_ She offered Wilbur a smile that was a little tight, but Wilbur couldn’t help the way his heart rate jumped. So if you could please help us, uh, what’s your name?”  _

_ “WilburSoot.” Wilbur offered, with a smile “And I absolutely can. Where are you trying to go?”  _

_ “Thank you. We’re just trying to-”  _

_ “I have a map, Sally.” Schlatt interrupted, throwing his hands up “You can’t get lost if you have a map!”  _

_ Sally closed her eyes and took a deep breath, but before they could start shouting again, Wilbur jumped in. “Did you get it from the admins?” _

_ “Uh, yeah?” Schlatt said, leveling Wilbur with a look that just screamed, ‘are you stupid?’.  _

_ Wilbur studied the map, then smirked slightly. “The admins on this server are useless. This map is actually completely wrong. If you’ve been trying to get back to the port on this map, you’ve been going the wrong direction for, oh, two days.”  _

_ “Two days?” Charlie groaned, and flopped back onto the forest floor “I’m gonna kill you Schlatt.”  _

_ “Well, how was I supposed to know the stupid admins gave me a bad map!” Schlatt said, turning back to Charlie “You didn’t know either!”  _

_ “Guys, please.” the pink-haired woman begged “Please stop shouting. It isn’t helping anything!”  _

_ “She’s right. Especially since we need to get packing. If it’s two days the other direction we need to go on and head out, if we want to get out of here this week.” Sally paused and turned to Wilbur. “Can we do it in two days?”  _

_ “If you want to go back out to port, then it’ll probably take you three days,” Wilbur said, rolling up their rather useless map and handing it back to her, and even though the morning air was still cool, her fingers were warm as they brushed against his. He couldn’t help but note the way her face fell, and before Wilbur could even consider what he was saying, the words were out of his mouth “But, lucky for you, I know a much faster way out of the server.”  _

_ Wilbur resisted the urge to wince because maybe showing a group of complete strangers the secret port his dad had made years ago wasn’t exactly the smartest move. But, Sally’s face lit up with a smile, and Wilbur found himself returning it as his hesitations melted away.  _

_ “You do?” Sally asked, “How much shorter?”  _

_ \---  _

_ Wilbur ended up leading the strange group through the woods. It didn’t take them long to pack up their stuff, despite the way Schlatt complained and moaned, glaring at Wilbur from across the clearing. He only stopped when Sally threw some stuff at him and told him to pack it up and be useful.  _

_ But, then they were on their way. Wilbur lead them south, arcing their path just enough so that they avoided his house, mostly so that he didn’t risk Tommy tagging along for the rest of the trip.  _

_ It was a four-hour walk, and somehow it was both the longest and shortest four hours of Wilbur’s life.  _

_ Schlatt, after accusing him of a multitude of things, such as leading them into sex trafficking, or a cannibalism cult, eventually warmed up to him, (at least Sally said he did after Wilbur kept him from falling into a ravine that was hidden by bushes). Mostly he just allowed it with all of them. They were a group of friends, who had started out as strangers, just traveling the world, joining random servers, having fun with whatever happened in each one.  _

_ “We started a cult in one of them!” Charlie said with a grin “We didn’t mean to, it was a joke, but hey, if the villagers want to worship the Smile god I’m not going to complain.”  _

_ They were hilarious, as a group. Sally would argue with anyone, had a spark of intelligence and fire in her eyes, and a smile that Wilbur couldn’t help but be drawn to. Charlie was hilarious, in an unexpected way, and Niki seemed quiet, but Wilbur found himself laughing at what little she did have to say. Schlatt was loud, brash, and a jackass, but Wilbur couldn’t find it in himself to hate the guy. The group’s dynamic was strange but familiar. Obviously, they had been traveling together a long time. Eventually, they reached the glowing nether portal, hidden in a small stone structure, covered in vines and moss.  _

_ Charlie and Niki went first, vanishing into the glowing portal, leaving Sally, Wilbur, and Schlatt standing in the overworld.  _

_ “You know,” Schlatt hesitated just outside the portal “You could come with us, WilburSoot. You seem like a cool guy. Way too smart to be stuck in this podunk server forever.”  _

_ Wilbur blinked in surprise “You want me to come with you?”  _

_ “Yeah, why not. You didn’t kill us, you’re actually occasionally funny, and I think you’ve got potential Wilbur. We could do great things together.” _

_ And Wilbur... Wilbur had never really wanted to stay on his server forever. Not when he knew there were things to do- things to learn, outside of the boundaries of his home. And outside the few trips, he’d ever been on, to tame places where he’d been able to roam, but only in the big cities. But, he didn’t want to fight, like Technoblade and Phil did, or spend hours mining and grinding, he wanted to have fun. He wanted adventure. And Schlatt was right, Wilbur had no idea how easy it was to fall into the group's dynamic. He hadn’t even realized he wanted them to offer until it was sitting there. And… he couldn’t do it.  _

_ “I-I can't,” Wilbur said finally. As much as he desperately wanted to. And it would be so easy, just to walk out the portal and.. leave. It had to be easy, right? Technoblade did it. Phil seemed like he was almost there. How hard could it be?  _

_ But, he couldn’t. Tommy had just turned 14. Tubbo wasn’t even 15 yet. Dad had been gone for almost two weeks. Wilbur had no idea when Phil was coming back. As much as he wanted to, as much as he desperately didn’t want to see Sally’s hopeful smile fall or Schlatt glare, Wilbur didn’t have a choice. _

_ “Why not?” Schlatt snapped “What could there possibly be in this server interesting enough to keep you from leaving?”  _

_ “It’s not that I don’t want to leave. Ender I would like nothing more.” Wilbur let out a laugh, and the bitterness in it caught him off guard. But, I... I have responsibilities here. I can’t just walk away.”  _

_ He wasn’t Technoblade. He wouldn’t just walk away. He wasn't his dad, who always seemed to have a foot out the door. Wilbur made Tommy a promise. He’d keep it. _

_ Schlatt scoffed “Whatever. Your loss, Wilbur. If you ever wise up and decide to leave this place, maybe I’ll see you around. Come on Sally, we gotta go. Stop making eyes at him. I’ve been holding back puke this whole time.”  _

_ Schlatt entered the portal before Sally could retort, and Wilbur turned to look at Sally. “I’m sorry. My brothers-”  _

_ “Don’t apologize.” Sally said “If you think you’re doing the right thing, then do it. It just might not be the right time. But, if it ever is, come find us.”  _

_ “How will I find you?” Wilbur asked, and he realized how close he was standing to Sally” You all don’t have a plan and I don’t know when I’ll ever get to leave..”  _

_ “Here.” Sally said, pressing a folded paper in his hand “If you ever decide to leave, just send me a message. We’ll find you. Now, I’ve got to go. See you later, Wilbur!”  _

_ Wilbur watched as she sprinted into the portal, paper still gripped in his hand, and stood there a long time before finally turning back to the house.  _

_ \--  _

Wilbur hadn’t necessarily forgotten the group, no, but he’d been busy, even after Phil returned and he hadn’t had time to think about it. Then, well, when Tommy jumped out a window and very nearly died. He hadn’t considered it since then, but it was still in his pocket. Still tucked away. He probably didn’t even need the note- he’d long memorized what it said, but still, he kept it.

“Wilbur! Wilbur look!” Tubbo called, breaking him out of his reprieve. Tubbo let an arrow fly, and it hit just shy of its mark, but the flames still managed to jump onto the wool blocks, setting the lopsided il on fire. 

“Holy shit!” Wilbur muttered as the wool target burst into flames. He grinned “Tubbo what the hell, those are wicked.” 

“It’s fucking cool.” Tubbo agreed, preening a little. 

“I want to try,” Tommy whined, reaching for the bow. “I want to set shit on fire.” 

“Fine.” Tubbo agreed, “But the next one is mine since it’s my stuff.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Tommy muttered, as he notched an arrow. 

“Don’t start a forest fire,” Wilbur warned, only half-joking. Tommy wasn’t a terrible shot, but he got easily distracted, and it was just as likely that he would hit the trees. However, Tommy let the arrow fly without hesitation and landed perfectly in the center of the dark wool blocks that were probably supposed to be an enderman, dead center. It immediately burst into flames. Tommy turned around, with a smug grin on his face. “I’m a better shot than you,” he said, holding the bow over Tubbo’s head. “I’m the Big Man! Biggest man! I’m the supreme shooter” 

“Give it back,” Tubbo said, jumping to reach it, but Tommy was tall enough that he kept it just out of reach “Tommy!”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but laugh as Tubbo, after a moment of consideration, drove an elbow into Tommy’s stomach, causing Tommy to hunch over reflexively double over, bending low enough that tubbo snatched the bow back. “Ha!” Tubbo said, grinning victoriously. 

Tommy glared up “Bitch.” he said and Tubbo just smiled sweetly and flipped him off. 

“Stop fighting with weapons in your hands.” Wilbur said, finally, “If one of you gets caught on fire, then we’ll have to explain that to dad and I’ll make the two of you do it.” 

Tubbo started rambling about something, probably about how they’d be fine, and Phil wouldn’t need to find out, but Wilbur couldn’t help but catch Tommy’s reaction. Tommy just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Yeah,” Tommy muttered quietly like no one was supposed to hear him, “As if he would even really care.” 

And Wilbur wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean. Sure, their dad played favorites- but that wasn’t new information- but, Phil obviously cared enough to worry for them, sometimes. Especially about Tommy, in recent days, though he supposed that was a relatively new development. Tubbo either hadn’t heard Tommy over his own monologue or just ignored it, and Wilbur wasn’t sure Tommy had meant to say it, so he let it slide, but noted it away, among the long list of other things that were wrong with Tommy. 

It reminded him of those first few months after Tommy moved in when Tommy was still unsure of his place, and half-convinced they were going to throw him out for simply existing. But, the difference was, Tommy now just seemed… tired. Under all his bravado, there was just exhaustion in his eyes that Wilbur couldn’t help but pick up on. It was strange. Wilbur wasn’t as good at as many things as his father, or Technoblade, but he was smart. He was good at reading people and he could, usually, read Tommy like a book. So that’s why it scared him, behind the exhaustion, was the blankness. The way he just couldn’t quite get a read on Tommy like normal. 

The look in his eyes sometimes reminded Wilbur just a little too much of the look in Phil’s eye when someone would come knocking at their door, looking for the Angel of Death. Normally his dad took them outside. There was never any blood on his hands when he returned, but the haunted look that lingered in his eyes for days told Wilbur all he needed to know.

But, Tommy was Wilbur’s kid brother. Tommy had only ever killed mobs, just like Wilbur. Wilbur didn’t know everything about his father’s past, but he knew enough. And, Wilbur could remember, when he and Technboalde had been thirteen, Wilbur noticed the look in his brother in Technoblade’s eyes. Wilbur never learned what happened on that specific trip, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. It was after that that Technbolade truly began to pull away. He hadn’t seemed to care that Wilbur wanted to help. 

Something cold settled in Wilbur’s chest. He knew what their Dad thought was happening. That’s why he sent for Technoblade. If that was true…. Wilbur pressed his mouth into a thin line. Wilbur had watched Tommy go off with Technoblade twice now, and sure, Tommy had sat with him in silence the day before, but that was more concerning. Tommy hadn’t talked to him. Had he talked to Technoblade? No one would tell him anything, that was for certain. Stupid Wilbur, who couldn’t really fight, who didn’t go on grand adventures, couldn’t handle it. They’d never thought he could handle it, ~~ even if he could apparently handle raising Tommy ~~ ~~.~~

Wilbur had been helpless when he was thirteen, watching his family start tearing apart. Wilbur wasn’t sure, if Tommy really was going down that same path, that he could hold it together any longer.

\----

Technoblade and Wilbur boh had bookshelves in their rooms. Wilbur’s had always been filled with books about politics, government, and culture, with the empty space crammed full of old journals, notebooks, and half-finished songs he hadn’t let Technoblade see in years. That was what Phil had brought back, from supply runs or some tamer trips for Wilbur. Paper and journals or books.

Technoblade had his own shelf, filled with mythology, philosophy, and science. He didn’t write much, so his was filled to the brim with books he’d take from Phil or gotten on his own exploits. He had taken a few of his favorites with him, and most of them had survived the years of travels, sitting comfortably in his inventory, occasionally in his houses. 

However, a majority of them were left behind. It simply wasn't practical to carry that many books, not when he needed his inventory open to more tactically useful objects. Not to mention, him having a ton of books would kinda kill the vibe. He did have a reputation to uphold after all, and carrying around a library didn’t really feed into that. 

However, Technoblade wasn’t a complete brute, despite what most people thought. He knew more about things (besides killing and potatoes) than most people would give him credit for. Enchanting was one of them. 

It wasn’t his strongest suit- he could always be better, faster- but it was something he had learned about extensively in recent years, especially with weapons. 

But, that all happened after he left Philza’s house. The server they lived on had little magic. The admins didn’t do much server maintenance and lots of things had gone wild. The magic, normally maintained by balancing source codes had been nearly depleted and worked more slowly here. This server wasn’t the worst he’d been on, but after having lived on countless other servers, he could feel the difference in his bones. He knew that Phil could too, especially both of them being hybrids, (even if he still wasn’t certain what Phil was a hybrid of, exactly), but had long learned to live with it. Techno could remember that often Phil would spend hours enchanting things on other servers when they would take supply runs or longer trips to servers where Phil could risk time and supplies for the enchantment. 

Most of the books in the house were crammed into one of those two places, but Phil kept his enchanting books in his own room, in a chest kept under the floor. Techno had no idea if Tommy and Wilbur knew it was there, though he assumed Wilbur did, but Phil had shown him when he was around 10. 

_ “Techno, these are the enchanting books. And my private collection.” Phil had said, kneeling on the floor, Techno beside him “I don’t use them much here, but I wanted to show you where I kept them. Just in case.”  _

Technoblade still wasn't sure what the just incase had meant exactly. Phil had shown him how to enchant swords, and weapons, Wilbur had learned too, though it was a couple of years later, when Technoblade already had an enchanted sword and axe, though Wilbur was still learning how to properly wield a sword. 

Technoblade had never read the books beyond what he needed for enchanting, and have never touched the old tomes at all. He wasn't forbidden- Phil didn’t forbid knowledge in the house, even if he strongly discouraged some of it-- it had just never interested him. Technoblade found magic useful, but work, and logic, were much more useful. In the heat of battle, it ultimately came down to sword to sword, skin to skin. Not any sort of enchantment. 

However, Technoblade wasn’t in the heat of battle, though he would much rather be. Chat voices their approval, rising in volume sharply, as they called for blood, before quieting to the normal drone. Time travel wasn’t something Technoblade had thought possible, and he hadn’t been convinced that Tommy was from the future until he saw the kid freak out today. 

Tommy still hadn’t told him anything, really, except that he’d died. Apparently. Technoblade wasn’t really affected by death, these days. He’d spent the last few months farming potatoes, but before that, he simply fought. He had taken lives, canon, and competition, countless times. He had joined a server on the brink of war, more than once, simply to fight. Never for the government, never for the people in charge, because power corrupts, but for freedom. For the eradication of government, because it never ended well. 

Only once had he fought for a country. And he would never make that mistake again. 

His knuckles still ached, from the trees he’d cleared, after talking to Tommy. It was as close as he could get to blood, offering the cuts on his own hands in lieu of a real fight. Instead of real blood. It didn’t quiet the voices, but it took the edge off the screaming. 

Techno was grateful the house was quiet, for once. He wasn’t sure he could uphold Tommy’s promise right now, if Phil asked him.. Hell even if Wilbur did The chat, the moment that Tommy had uttered the words ‘I died’ began roaring for blood.

Technoblade had never quite understood Tommy. The kid was too loud, all ideas, never followed through, always tripping over himself to prove he was the best even when he obviously wasn’t. Even then he’d mostly followed Wilbur around, copying everything he did, except for what Tommy deemed boring. It was only sometimes he followed Technoblade, mostly just to piss him off. 

They weren’t close. He shouldn’t feel the rage burning up in his chest as Chat called for blood for a boy he’d hardly talked to in years. 

But. 

Tommy was only sixteen, in whatever future he’d come from, and he’d died. Technoblade probably didn’t have any right to be so upset. It was uncommon for people to lose their first life before they turned twenty. Most people did it when they were eighteen or so, and it could be earlier in particularly violent servers. 

Still, in most places, a sixteen-year-old losing their first life would be considered a tragic thing. Somethin’ to pity. 

On this server, it would be. How had Phil let it happen? Or Wilbur? Tommy was stupid and reckless, and so was Wilbur, but he’d claimed it wasn’t a creeper or TNT. Maybe a firework went wrong? But an explosion should’ve been preventable. What the hell had Tommy been doing? Probably manage to get some TNT or somethin’ stupid, but still. The kid said he was in the woods. Maybe it was a creeper, and he was remembering wrong. He hadn’t exactly seemed with it. 

Technoblade wasn’t sure. He’d also never heard of a respawn glitch so big, so, as he pried the loose flooring up in Phil’s room, he hoped that there would be a book that at least mentioned it, or respawn glitches. 

Technoblade gathered a few of the books, leaving all the enchanting book s untouched, before closing the best and moving the boards back into place. He didn’t bother putting them in his inventory for the short trip up to his room. His room had remained nearly untouched, including the small table by his bed, with a chair pulled up to it. Technoblade dumped the books on one side and opened the old chest in his room, pulling out an old notebook that was pretty well empty. 

He settled into his chair, an old pen ready to write, and flipped open the first book. 

\--- 

Technoblade was startled from his note-taking by a sharp knock at the door. His head snapped up, and it took a split second for him to realize where he was. “Phil says it’s time to eat if you want.” Wilbur was on the other side of his door, and Technoblade could hear the slight irritation in his voice. 

Technoblade straightened up as he put his third book down and grimaced as his back protested. He’d been hunched over the desk, engrossed in the latest book, scribbling notes in the old notebook. Which, he was almost done with that book, and while it hadn’t been particularly helpful, he had to read all of it, just in case he was missing something. “I'll get somethin’ for lunch in a bit,” he called, settling back over his desk. He would finish this book and then- 

“It’s seven at night,” Wilbur said flatly from the other side of the door. Technoblade blinked and looked back at the window and huh, it was dark now. The glowstone in the corner of his room was lighting it well enough he hadn’t even noticed the change in daylight. 

Oops. 

He probably should eat, but, he was almost done with that book, and still had four more piled beside him. “I’m alright. I’ll eat later.” 

Wilbur was quiet enough that Techno was certain he’d already walked off before he finally sighed “Fine. Suit yourself.” 

Techno sighed as he looked at the pile of books. He’d already read two and was almost done with another. He continued to read, occasionally scribbling in his notebook, which wasn’t nearly as full as he would like it to be. Eventually, he came to the end of the old tome and frowned. So far, he'd found no mention of time travel, and only some vague mention of how respawn mechanics even worked. Nothing about a glitch strong enough to send someone back in time. 

Of course, Tommy didn’t seem too worried about why it happened- he’d definitely been adamant about not going back, which was strange, considering how much he seemed hell-bent on protecting whatever timeline stuff he kept spouting. If he wanted to future protected so badly, why didn’t he want to go back? 

Technoblade let out a long sigh. 

It would be so much easier to just… go to Phil. Tell him everything. Or Wilbur. Tommy seemed less concerned about Wilbur knowing, less scared of him at least, and Wilbur had always been better at these things. Phil too. He still was

And.. he could leave again. He could go back to potato farming, though that wouldn’t be nearly as fun since his rival finally backed down and eventually left the server from shame or something. Of course, he’d been meaning to make the competition circuit again, since rumors were circulating about retirement. Technoblade could find a war server if he wanted, but that was always a risk. 

It would be easy. Phil wanted to talk to him and probably hadn’t only because the walls were far too thin in the house to keep everyone from hearing what was being said. Wilbur, while angry at Techno, would probably listen about Tommy. 

And he could leave. 

**_No_ ** **!**

It was unusual for Chat to speak unanimously. And while there were a few dissenters as always, the majority of them screamed, so loud that Techno dropped his pen, clutching the side of his temples. 

It was louder than Chat had been since the night they’d woken him from a dead sleep, telling him that he needed to help Philza. And now, Chat was telling him to help Tommy. For some reason. 

**_Help him!_ **

**_You promised!_ **

**_He’s literally a time-traveler_ **

**_He’s your brother_ **

**_Technoangst_ **

**_He needs help_ **

**_Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood._ **

**_If you leave, I’ll spam E in the chat constantly for the rest of your life_ **

**_Tommy is annoying_ **

**_Help Tommy!_ **

**_Tommy needs someone!_ **

**_He trusts you!_ **

**_If you leave I will just spam all caps._ **

**_Brotherblade!_ **

**_Pog!_ **

**_Don’t you dare leave!_ **

**_Help him!_ **

  
  
  


“Guys.” He muttered quietly, “Guys, come on. I’m really not-he doesn’t even wanna tell me-” 

Why did they think- why did everyone seem to think he could help Tommy. He barely knew the kid! Really! Technoblade wasn't a babysitter, he wasn’t a brother, he was the _ Blood God _ . Why- 

Technoblade flinched as they protested sharply. “Chat, please. Let’s be rational here.” 

That of course, was the wrong thing to say. Chat starting shouting, a cacophony of seemingly random phrases that made no sense, too overlapping for him to even try to pick out what they were saying. Technoblade gritted his teeth as he tried in vain to ignore the Chat. Normally he could, even when they were loud, but they were insistent and so unanimous, and- 

Technoblade slammed a hand down on his desk “Chat.” he growled lowly. “Fine. Fine. I’m stayin’, now please, please shut up.” 

It wasn’t instant, but slowly, the voices quieted, to a manageable hum and Technoblade slumped in relief. His head was still throbbing, and his stomach growled. As much as he wanted to continue reading, he wouldn’t be able to see the words on the page if he continued like this. Maybe some food would help his headache. 

So, he closed the book and pushed away from the table. He wasn’t sure exactly what time it was, but both Wilbur and Tommy’s doors were closed and the house was quiet. Huh. It probably meant they were sleeping. At least maybe he could have a little more time to himself. 

Techno stepped lightly, hoping not to wake Phil as he made his way into the kitchen. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was, until he had a loaf of bread out, slicing a few pieces. He debated toasting them, but it was too much work, so he simply munched on the bread in the dark of the kitchen as he stared into the backyard. 

Chat was quieter now, apparently satisfied by his decision to help Tommy. Tommy wasn’t.. He didn’t seem to be a bad kid. He hadn’t been one, the last time Techno really saw him, just annoying and loud. He was smart, too, in an unexpected way. It didn’t seem like much had changed. Except, maybe Chat had latched onto him. 

Maybe Chat was in Tommy’s head, as much as they liked to talk about him 

Technoblade was debating on whether or not he wanted to take an apple up to his room, since he was still hungry when the floor creaked behind him. 

He turned around to find Phil standing there. He was dressed in his long coat, hat pulled down low on his head, and trusty sword strapped to his side. His wings were tucked against his back, and even in the dark, Technoblade could see the somber expression on his face. 

“Take a walk with me Technoblade?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Uhh yeah this is the longest chapter I've written for this fic at 6.2k. Most of it was in a backstory, that honestly? was longer than that. I cut about 1.5k words that really didn't fit the vibe. The vibe of this chapter is a little different, mostly bc its not about Tommy? Idk, I enjoyed it, but Tommy will come back next chapter! With the angst! Does the child get a break? absolutely not. 
> 
> 2) I have a vague plan for the next sections of the story. Yay! Plans! Unfortunately, plot crept in so that will be mixed with angst and comfort. 
> 
> 3) okay, SO I'm gonna own up to something. I absolutely am projecting onto Wilbur here, Techno too, but right now Wilbur I'm trying really hard not to let that bleed in, but I am absolutely doing it lmao. 
> 
> 4) Love reading yall's theories about who will show up/what will happen next! Let me know what you guys think will happen next, who might show up, or even if you just liked it! 
> 
> Anyway, I'm very tired so good night! You guys rock


	13. some would scream and some would sing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one has a good time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Semi-graphic descriptions of violence and death in the Itallics section.
> 
> Not got much to say, except you guys get 4/4 SBI POV in this chapter. Didn't mean to but it happened.

The silence hung heavy between Phil and Technoblade as they walked through the dark forest, only broken by the occasional rattle of bones or creeper hiss of a mob that was easily dispatched by either Technoblade’s enchanted sword, or Philza’s bow. Phil had no particular direction in mind, he just needed to walk away for a few minutes. He’d taken to the sky, for just an hour, earlier, but it had only seemed to make the itch under his skin work. He wasn’t built to stay inside. 

“It isn’t like you to beat around the bush, Philza.” Technoblade said gruffly “You got something to say, say it.” 

Phil let out a long sigh “I don’t even fucking know where to start. But how about with whatever’s going on with you and Tommy? Why can’t you tell me?” 

Technoblade was still staring straight ahead, and Phil’s frown deepened as he watched Technboalde’s jaw clench, even in the dim light, his eyesight was good enough that low light didn’t hinder him too much. 

“I already told ya, Phil, I can’t tell you,” Technoblade said, finally. “I wish I could tell you. Believe me, I’m not cut out for this kinda stuff. I’m much better and fighting. Or famin’. But, Tommy told me, for some reason. I don’t think he meant to if it makes you feel better.” 

Phil shook his head “I don’t think it does, mate.” 

Techno pursed his lips before continuing “He made me promise. Kid had a panic attack, Phil. I-I had to get him to calm down or he was gonna bolt again. Sure, I probably could’ve stopped him, but who knows what woulda happened next. Promising to keep quiet was all I could do Phil unless you just wanted me to lock him up.” 

Silence fell between them, as Phil contemplated what Technoblade said. Part of him wanted to push for details, because damn it, he needed to know. How was he supposed to help Tommy, if he didn’t know what was going on? Then again, had Phil even really helped Technoblade? Techno didn’t even think of them as his family anymore, as much as it pained Phil to admit that, and his son was known as the blood god. Phil had done the best he could, but… had done enough the first time? Could he even really help Tommy? 

His silence must’ve stretched on too long because Technoblade broke it with a slightly hesitant “...you didn’t want me to lock him up, did you?” 

“Of course not.” Phil said, shaking his head.“I just.. Technoblade I asked you to come to help me with Tommy. You promised me you’d try to help him, Techno.” 

“Please don’t try to use that against me, Phil,” Technoblade said, and for the first time during their conversation, Phil heard a hint of truth agitation directed at him. “I’m keepin’ my promise to you, by keepin’ my promise to Tommy. I coulda easily let him run off, Phil. And If I tell you now, that’s good and well. But, if Tommy finds out I broke that promise, he’ll be gone by mornin’. And if that’s what you want, that’s fine by me.” 

Phil tried to hide his surprise and the small flicker of guilt in his chest. Technoblade rarely got so short with him, though he wasn’t surprised by the honestly. Technoblade never pulled punches. “Okay, Techno.” 

“Okay?” Technoblade repeated back “ You aren’t gonna make me tell you?” 

“Do you want me to?” Phil wasn’t going to. As much as he despised the helplessness that sat heavy on his chest, the frustration at his sons, he trusted Technoblade. He had called him for a reason, after all. But, Technoblade, only a few days ago had seemed eager to leave, and had resisted the idea until Phil had practically begged. “I never wanted to force you to stay.” 

Technbolade snorted “No. You’re not keepin’ me here Phil. That’d be chat. They’ve latched onto the little gremlin, for whatever the reason and have threatened to just, scream if I tell you. I just hoped you wouldn’t be mad.” 

Phil chuckled, despite it not being particularly funny. “I’m not… angry at you, or Tommy. Mostly just at myself. Why can’t he fucking trust me, Technoblade? No offense to you, of course, but why would he trust you more?” 

Technoblade snorted. “He doesn’t trust me, Phil. I’m pretty sure he’s still lyin’ to me, at least partially. And I don’t know why he doesn’t trust you, Phil. I don’t know much about what he’s telling me, to be honest. It’s driving me nuts.” 

“Is that why you took my books?” Phil asked quietly. He’d noticed the boards had been adjusted, ever so slightly in his room. Wilbur and Tommy didn’t know what was down there, and Tommy wouldn’t have read it even if he knew what was under the boards. The books Technoblade had borrowed were ones that he’d collected himself, some from his first adventures, but many from nearly a decade ago when he was trying to learn something, anything about the voices in Technoblade’s head. 

They had taught him nothing. It did not sit well with him that Technoblade had turned to them now. 

Technoblade shrugged “Yes. I… needed answers, since some of them I don’t think Tommy can even give me. I had no idea where else to start. Figured that was my best bet, on this server.” 

Phil grimaced “Techno, those books... They weren’t much help when you were a kid. I dunno how much they’ll help you with Tommy.” 

Technoblade sighed and for just a moment, Phil thought he might cave- might tell him what answers he was looking for, exactly, but instead, Technoblade offered a wry smile “I’ve gotta try, Phil. Worst that happens is I don’t get any answers but learn a little. Might be useful someday, if not now.” 

Phil nodded. “I suppose.”

Silence fell again as they walked further into the woods. Technbolade easily dispatched a stray zombie. “I still don’t like this mate. I fucking hate it. I don't blame you. But I don't like it.” 

“Me neither Phil.” Technoblade said quietly ”Me neither.” 

\---- 

The next few days passed much the same. Technoblade would force Tommy out, either first thing in the morning, or a couple of hours before dusk. Tommy wanted to spar but asked to do so outside of the sparring ring. He didn’t want Wilbur or Phil watching, especially since he was definitely pulling out moves that he had no right knowing how to do. Technoblade would usually put Tommy through the paces for an hour or so, before asking his questions. 

As much as Techno wanted to force Tommy to give him answers about the big things (chiefly, how, exactly, he’d died and what his goal was in the past) that approach didn’t work. Tommy would simply lie to him, and While Technoblade was almost certain he was lying, he really had no way of proving it and that meant he couldn’t call Tommy on his bull. 

But, Tommy loved to talk- his mouth tended to run when he got nervous, or bored, or happy, or literally any emotion ever- so his strategy was mostly just to get Tommy talking. Usually, the kid would slip up at least once and say something he didn’t mean to, or hedge around something that he wouldn’t quite say before pivoting wildly. 

The pivots had worked a couple of times, Techno realized, but once he figured out the tactic, Technoblade let Tommy think he was distracting him when he was really making a mental list of all the little details Tommy dropped. He was recording them in the notebook that also contained the research from the books Phil let him borrow, and to be honest? 

Technoblade was getting concerned. The picture that Tommy was painting, even unconsciously, was… confusing, at best. 

Tommy seemed to still vary between insisting that the timeline must be preserved, yet, Tommy still seemed… scared. Tommy was just scared. Hidden under the bravado, annoyance, and sheer force of will, it was easy to see. Tommy was scared. He was still wary of Technoblade. He no longer looked terrified, but he was constantly on guard. Constantly wary. A few times, when Technoblade had a sword to Tommy's throat, he could still see the fear in his eyes, for just a second.

And Tommy just fought too well. He was no PvP champion, and not close to a match for Techno himself, but still far better than anyone who’d only ever fought mobs should. He wasn’t a natural the way Technoblade was, born to hold a blade, but it was like fighting was his second nature.

He had nightmares. He didn’t scream all night, but almost every night, there was a half-choed scream that woke him, up,, followed by the sound of Wilbur’s door opening. Tommy hadn’t let him in yet. Technoblade would usually be awake after those fits, just thinking. He never bothered getting up- the kid liked Wilbur way more than Techno, and still didn’t let him in. Technoblade understood. His dreams were rarely pleasant, but he had long trained himself to stop screaming out. 

But, the things he mentioned, half-finished sentences, that hung heavy, beginning to paint a picture Technoblade didn’t quite like. 

“Fuck yeah, I’m better at fighting,” Tommy said, “I trained with you, but I’m just good at that shit. I learned a lot fast. I was good at that shit, especially after the first wa-``Tommy coughed loudly like that could distract Technoblade from what he thought he heard “After the first wanker tried to fight me over my shit! I learned to fight before you even trained me. I hate when people take my shit, it’s my stuff you know? Ender, people need to learn fucking boundaries.”

“Tommy who was taking your stuff?” Technbolade asked, despite not wanting to ask about that at all. “Tubbo?” 

“Nah,” Tommy said “It’s uh, some people you wouldn’t know. Not important who they are.” 

“If you say so, kid,” Techno said, despite thinking that that may, in fact, be important. Not to mention the fact Tommy had cut himself off. Techno wasn’t sure he wanted to say wanker. It almost sounded like.. Something cool settled in Technoblade’s chest. But, it couldn’t be what he thought. This server was too safe. And Tommy probably did manage to get into a fight with one of the few other people that lived on the server sounded just like Tommy’s luck. 

\--- 

Tommy liked talking about dangerous things he’d done, like stupid MLG stunts, which apparently Tommy was  _ actually  _ good at. Technoblade had nearly had a heart attack when Tommy felt the need to prove it to all of them. But, the kid had managed to catch himself with relative ease using the water bucket. 

Tubbo thought it was cool and Tommy had spent the next few hours alternatively showing off and teaching Tubbo some of his tricks. Phil had ultimately gone back inside, once he deemed them safe enough. Technoblade had watched for a while, but Wilbur kept glaring at him from across the clearing, where Tommy had built his cobblestone tower to practice jumping off of. 

So Technoblade had retreated to his room. Later he'd glanced out and Wilbur had joined in, trying to show off. 

Unfortunately, Tommy was ultimately better, and Wilbur caught some grief for his near falls. Technbolade was certain that the two extra years of practice had something to do with it and a small part of his did get a kick out of Wilbur’s frustration. 

And he opened up a few more stories, telling Technoblade about MLGs he did, or how he and a friend (probably Tubbo) set a building on fire once. It sounded like. Normal things that Tommy would do, even it was annoying. Maybe that’s why people still beat him up. Tommy always was good at getting beat up. 

But Tommy said things, still, that just didn’t add up. Talking of a full enchanted netherite armour set, enchanted swords, too many magic things. There simply wasn’t enough magic of enough lapis on the server to support that. 

Had Tommy left the server? It went in his book. Technoblade hoped he was wrong. The implications had something tighten uncomfortably in his chest. But, Tommy was just a kid. A kid who had an accident and ended up in the past. 

Tommy was just... Dramatic. The kid always had a flair for the dramatics, probably learned from Wilbur. But unlike Wilbur, who was more theatrical in his dramatics, Tommy was always full of emotion- anger, joy, whatever- he just shouted about it. 

That had to be it.

Even if the notebook on the desk beside Technbolade’s bed was filled with a neat list of facts that all pointed towards something more than a slightly chaotic future. Technoblade sighed as he closed it for the evening. Tommy had mentioned, in passing, the Phil ‘didn’t even think of him as a son anyway’, which was concerning and Techno had noted that too. It was strange, these things that Tommy said, that simply didn’t make sense. 

And Technoblade had had enough. He’d been patient with Tommy, but he was almost done. He wouldn’t tell Phil, but it was time to put more leverage on the kid. Starting tomorrow Technoblade would get his answers. 

\--- 

Tommy’s entire body ached, as he crawled into bed. Technoblade’s training was brutal, and he’d forgotten just how bad it could be, and he was certain that this was a nicer regime than what he’d gone through in exile. But, this body wasn’t used to it like he had been in the future.

And, he was doing a halfway decent job of keeping things under wraps. He was pretty sure Technoblade was still a little suspicious of the timeline thing, but Tommy was doing a pretty good job of keeping him off his game. Wilbur had helped him put the window in and even if he was being a little bitch about Technoblade and generally annoying, Tommy was optimistic. 

He hadn’t seen Wilbur so… normal, in a long time. Maybe, just maybe, if he could keep Techno off his back, and get him and Wilbur to fight their shit out, then maybe they would never have to go to the SMP. Maybe things would be different. 

Tommy could hope. 

_ The sun was streaming through his newly installed window when Tommy woke up. It was nice, having a real window again, he thought, as he got out of bed, Instead of a fucking cave of a room.  _

_ It was a bit strange though, that they hadn't woken him up yet. It was strange he wasn’t already awake, with the sunlight. That’s usually what woke him up and he’d been struggling to regulate, without the sunrise to wake him up. These days Wilbur had been shaking him awake, or occasionally Phil knocking on his door to get him up at a reasonable hour. Or Tommy found himself slipping out, only to look outside and find it still dark, where he would sit on his bed until he heard other family members beginning to stir.  _

_ But, today it appeared… almost noon, based on the sun, as Tommy got out of bed. Weird.  _

_ The house seemed… quiet too, like everyone was still fucking sleeping. Or, as if the house was empty. Maybe it was. Tommy couldn’t help the unease that pooled in his gut, though, there was no real reason to feel that way. He was turning into a paranoid bastard, wasn’t he?  _

_ Still, Tommy played it safe, as he stepped over the creaky floorboards in his room, pulling his door open softly. There was nothing immediately wrong when he peeked out into the hallway, but Tommy couldn’t help but feel off. The unease only grew as he crept into the hallway, and noticed Technoblade’s door was standing slightly open. Technoblade’s door was never open.  _

_ But, maybe he’d forgotten to shut it, or perhaps Phil had left something in there and forgotten to shut the door. That was probably it. Fucking paranoia. Tommy swallowed hard as he walked quietly toward the steps. Everything seemed fine until he got to the bottom of the staircase and froze.  _

_ Sprawled on the floor, in a pool of his own blood, was Philza.  _

_ Tommy made a noise of horror, before slapping a hand over his mouth as his stomach turned. Phil’s bright blue eyes were open wide, face frozen somewhere between rage and pain. Tommy couldn’t tear his eyes away, as much as he wanted to. He was frozen in horror, staring into Phil’s ashen face. Tommy managed to tear his eyes away from his face, only to be met with the sight of dark black wings spread out wide, the right one bent strangely, like it had been folded in half, and soaked in blood. Worse, was the left wing, torn clean off, raw sinew, muscle, and bone, jutting from the appendage, still dripping dark blood. It was laying just past Phil’s body and it looked shattered and bent like someone had taken their hands and crumbed it like paper.  _

_ One arm was thrown off to the side, and Phil’s sword was just beyond his bloody fingertips, shattered into three pieces. The other arm was bent at a strange angle and a white bone protruded sharply from the wrist like it had been snapped. A sharp contrast from the blood that seemed to coat every inch of the floor and Phil’s body.  _

_ The worst though was the gaping wound in Phils’ stomach. A glowing trident, obviously enchanted, was dug straight through, buried to the hilt, pinning Phil to the floor. It looked like he’d been stabbed over and over, from the gaping wounds spilling blood and wooden splinters poking from them.  _

_ Tommy heaved, as his body finally allowed him to move. He stumbled toward the kitchen, only to trip over something on the ground. He hit hard, unable to attempt to catch himself. He rolled onto his stomach, as he tried to get up, only to be met with the sight of Tubbo’s unseeing green eyes. His face was a mask of horror, and Tommy let out something between a sob and a scream. A single arrow protruded from his chest, buried up to the fletching like he’d be shot point-blank. It didn’t even look like Tubbo had fought back, simply like he’d been killed without hesitation.  _

_ Tommy wanted to throw up, but couldn’t. He heaved but nothing came up, Tommy scrambled back, hands slipping on the bloody floor. Tubbo was dead. Philza was dead. And not just dead, torn apart. Tommy had seen war, he’d seen death, he’d seen Wilbur die, but that wasn’t here. This was home. This was horrible. It was fucked, so fucked. What happened? What was happening?  _

_ He scrambled back to his feet, shaking his head. He had to be asleep. This-this wasn’t real. “No.” he muttered “no, no no, this can’t be-”  _

_ “Really?” Tommy spun around, to find  _ Dream  _ standing in the door of his kitchen, white smiley mask staring straight ahead. It was splattered in blood, just like the green hoodie. And for a moment the world stopped. No. dream couldn’t fucking be here. Ream couldn’t be here. Dream- Dream had done this, Somehow he’d found him, across time, and he’d done this. Tommy’s hands shook as he reached for his sword, only to pull out his nearly useless wooden training sword. “Oh, Tommy, it’s absolutely real.”  _

_ Tommy shook his head “No. No! I-You can’t be here! You shouldn’t even know about this place. How the fuck-”  _

_ “Did you really think you could escape me, Tommy?” Dream asked, voice laced with amusement. “C’mon, now. You know better than that.”  _

_ “No, no, no, no” Tommy muttered. “Fuck off Dream, you aren’t real. You can’t be here. They can’t be- ”  _

_ “Dead?” Dream supplied, as Tommy choked on a sob. “They are. It was surprising, seeing how easily they all fell. Even Technoblade was almost too easy.I thought it would be more interesting, watching the lose all their lives.” Dream glanced over his shoulder, out the window. The day outside was sunny. Bright. It was horrible. Tommy’s knees nearly buckled as he found himself following Dream’s gaze. The pristine white snow had been stained red, a sharp contrast that turned Tommy’s stomach. Technoblade was just outside the large window, his coat torn down the middle, wearing no shoes, no armour, nothing, just sprawled in the snow lie he’d simply sprung out of bed to fight. A fight he’d lost terribly since his head laid nearly three feet from his body, half-buried in the snow, pink hair stained red from the blood.  _

_ Tommy couldn’t even speak, couldn't move, as Dream prattled on, talking lightly, casually _

_ “I mean, Tubbo fell so fast, it wasn’t a fight, even if he did have all three lives, and Philza, he put up a fight, but once his wings went, it was over for him. And Wilbur-”  _

_ Dream recounted their deaths like it was nothing more than a vaguely interesting story. Like he hadn’t slaughtered them. Like he hadn’t found Tommy, and come, and taken everything from him again. Tommy launched himself at Dream, with a scream of rage.  _

_ They tumbled to the ground, and Tommy came out on top, staring down into Dream’s stupid smiley face mask. Dream didn’t even fight back, as Tommy pummeled his, just laughed, just laughed, and laughed. The wooden sword wasn’t sharp enough to stab him, not really, but Tommy didn’t care. He brought it down violently over and over again, into Dream’s stomach and chest and face. A hit for Philza. A hit for Tubbo. A hit for Technoblade. And for Wilbur, whatever Dream had done to him. And for everything Dream had done, everything he would do. Blood coated his hand, coated the sword, splattering across Tommy’s face. His arms burned, but he couldn’t stop.  _

_ The laughing stopped, but Tommy couldn’t. Not when he had Dream down, not when he could mask him pay. He couldn’t stop, as he brought the sword down, his fists down, on every inch of skin he could find. He finally paused when Dream’s breathing became labored, and, with shaking hands, pulled the cracked mask away from Dream’s face.  _

_ “I want to watch you die, you bastard”.Tommy snarled, ripped the mask away. He wanted to see the face of the man who’d ruined his life. The mask fell apart in his hands, the porcelain cracked beyond reason. It slipped from Tommy’s hands as he froze,, staring down into the face beneath him.  _

_ No. Tommy recoiled in horror, dripping the blood sword as he fell back onto the floor. It was Wilbur. Wilbur’s face was there, broken, and bloody, relapsing for breath.  _

_ “Why?” Wilbur rasped, staring into Tommy, with scarily clear eyes, “Tommy, why did you do this?”  _

_ “What?” Tommy whispered, “Wilbur, I-”  _

_ “You killed us.” Wilbur whispered, raising a shaky hand as he pointed a bloody finger at Tommy, “You killed us all. Why, Tommy? Why did you do it?”  _

_ “I didn't,” Tommy said, backing away from Wilbur, hands slipping on the bloody floor “Wilbur I didn’t. Dream-”  _

_ “Phil tried to stop you,” Wilbur said, like he couldn't even hear Tommy, “But you killed him. And then Tubbo. Then you slaughtered Technoblade. You laughed Tommy. Why did you kill us? Why did you laugh?”  _

_ “I-no, this isn’t real. I didn’t kill you I-I can’t-” Tommy shook his head, unable to look away from the betrayal in Wilbur’s face, as it morphed into rage. _

__

_ “You’re a monster, Tommy. You destroyed us. You ruined everything. You always ruined everything. You ruined this family. You killed us.” Wilbur spat, angry. “You did this, Tommy, look at what you’ve done.”  _

_ Tommy choked on a sob “I didn’t. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry, please-”  _

_ “I hate you, Tommy. You’re a disappointment. I hate you. Look at what you’ve done. This is your fault. This is your fault, Tommy.” Wilbur glared at him, as the light faded from his eyes, and his expression slowly went blank.  _

_ “I’m sorry,” Tommy pleaded “I didn’t fucking- please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t- I’m sorry. Please.”  _

_ “Doesn’t it feel good, Tommy?” his head snapped up, to find Dream standing in the kitchen again, this time with a pristine mask and hoodie “You freed yourself of your attachments. Of all the people dragging you down. “  _

_ “No,” Tommy spat, “No, fuck you, I wouldn’t, I couldn’t. You did this!”  _

_ Dream crossed the kitchen to crouch by Tommy. “Oh Tommy, this was all you. You’re the one covered in blood, aren’t you? “  _

_ And he was. Tommy was covered in blood, dripping from his hands, from his hair on his face, every shaking limb coated in the blood. “No, no, no-”  _

_ “Yes, Tommy.” Dream said, gripping Tommy’s shoulder tightly, “You cleared yourself from this. You’re free. It feels good, doesn't it? They didn’t care anyway, now like I did. They wanted to hold you back Tommy. They didn’t care about you. I do. I can show you how to be a god, Tommy. That was the first step. Now it’ can be you and me, just like old times!”  _

_ Tommy could hear the smile behind the mask and wanted nothing more than to rip it off, but he couldn’t move, not as hot tears streaked down his face. “You’re not my friend. Fuck off. Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off, this isn’t real. fuck off. No this isn’t real. This isn't real.”  _

_ “It’s real, Tommy. It’s just you and me now. Tommy and his only friend. I’m the only one who cares. I’m going to show you how to be just like me.”  _

_ “No, please, no.” Tommy begged, hating the way his voice shook“I don’t want to be like you, you bastard. Please don’t, please just go, I don’t want to go, please.”  _

_ Dream reached out and grabbed him, pulling him up to his feet, like he weighed nothing. Tommy struggled, hitting and scratching but nothing worked. Drea just laughed at him, cool and eerie and Tommy couldn’t escape it, even as he pressed his hand to his ears, echoing in his head before everything went dark.  _

\---

Wilbur was concerned, when he woke up to Tommy screaming, but didn’t even bother getting out of bed, at first. Tommy had nightmares almost every night, or every other night and Wilbur had first started getting up. The first few nights after Tommy had woken up sobbing or screaming, Tommy had let him in, had clung to Wilbur like a life-line as he cried, which was certainly concerning. He refused to talk about what he dreamed about and swore Wilbur to secrecy, but Wilbur was glad to let him hold on if it brought comfort, even if he desperately wanted to know what was happening on Tommy’s head. 

But, then Tommy had started pretending to be asleep. Ignoring Wilbur’s knocks. His sobs would cut off abruptly like Tommy was waking himself up. Tommy no longer let Wilbur in, and claimed every morning that he slept fine. Wilbur didn’t like it, but he’d stopped getting up. Tommy wasn’t going to let him in, and at any moment, he’d probably stop screaming and they could all go back to sleep. 

Except- Tommy didn’t stop sobbing- instead he started screaming. 

Wilbur was out of bed in an instant, shoving his glasses on his face, as he stumbled out of his room to Tommy’s door. He didn’t bother knocking, just grabbing the door handle and twisting only to find it- “locked? Fucking hell.” Wilbur muttered, “when did he start locking his shit.”

“Tommy!” He called, not really caring who he woke up “Toms, wake up!” 

That did nothing- Tommy was still screaming. Through the wooden door, Wilbur could hear what sounded like him just screaming ‘no’ over and over again. 

Wilbur knew, intellectually, that Tommy was safe. There was nothing in the walls of the house that could hurt him, but Wilbur couldn’t help the way his heart kept into his throat. Tommy was hurting, even if it wasn’t physically, and Wilbur was fucking helpless against it. Except, shit, they’d just put the window back in, hadn’t they? Tommy had been begging for days to get his window back and Wilbur had finally gotten the stuff for it. He hadn’t bothered to tell Phil or Technoblade, but he, Tommy, and Tubbo had put it in only hours ago. If Tommy freaked out... Wilbur wasn’t sure they would catch him, this time. 

Wilbur threw his shoulder against the door, but it was solid oak and didn’t budge. “Tommy,” he called again, pounding his hand on the door. “You need to wake up.” 

The door creaked open behind him, and Wilbur turned around to see Technoblade, wearing nothing but a loose pair of pajama pants and a long sleeve shirt, sword dangling from his hand. His hair was wild, pink strands dangling in front of his face “What’s wrong.” He demanded, eyes searching the room for threats, before finally settling on Wilbur. 

“Tommy’s screaming, and fucking locked his door,” Wilbur said, “I think it’s a nightmare but-“ 

“Move,” Technoblade said flatly, dropping his sowed into his inventory. Wilbur, under different circumstances, might’ve argued, but he stepped to the side. Technoblade squared up to the door and with a swift kick, the frame splintered and the door popped open. Wilbur was hot on Technoblade’s heels as they rushed into the room. 

Tommy was on the floor, looking like he’d thrown himself off the bed, and was back into a corner. His knees were pressed against his chest, curling in on himself, his hands were digging into his hair, as he rocked slightly. His screams had quieted, now he was just babbling incoherently. He could hear footsteps coming up the stairs, two at a time. Phil. Wilbur didn’t bother to wait for him. 

“No, no no.No this isn’t real.” Tommy’s eyes were squeezed shut tightly and Wilbur wasn't sure if he was awake or not, muttering under his breath, talking to someone Wilbur couldn’t see. His heart leaped into his throat. Fuck, he thought they were past this. 

Wilbur pushed past Technoblade, who was standing just in the doorway, expression unreadable, and was at Tommy’s side in an instant kneeling. “Toms, you need to wake up. Tommy-” Wilbur reached out- he needed to shake Tommy awake. Needed to snap him out of this. 

“Wait, Wilbur don’t touch-” It was too late. The second Wilbur put his hand on Tommy’s shoulder, Tommy’s head snapped up. His eyes flew open, but they were wild and unseeing. Tommy let out a noise that Wilbur wasn’t sure he’d ever heard a human make, and shoved Wilbur hard enough that Wilbur toppled to the ground, head slamming against the floor painfully. Tommy lunged like he might attack someone, eyes desperate. Wilbur flinched, prepared for Tommy to lang on Top of him but it never came. Technbolade had Tommy from behind, wrapped in a bear hug, unyielding, even as Tommy fought desperately against him. 

Tommy was talking nonsense now, eyes darting around the room wildly “I didn’t mean to, please don’t. I don’t want to go with you, you, I can’t go back to the-” Techno slapped a hand over Tommy’s mouth, with a look of vague panic. He managed to keep his hold on Tommy, despite the shift in position and the ferocity with which Tommy was fighting him. 

“Techno, let him go. You’re hurting him!” Wilbur snapped, gaping in horror. How was that helping Tommy? Tommy’s eyes were wild with absolute panic. “You’re making it worse!” 

“He’s having night terror or somethin’ If I don’t restrain him, he’s gonna hurt himself or someone else.” Techno snapped “If we hadn’t touched him it might not have come to this, But you and Phil need to get outta here, in case he” Technoblade grunted as Tommy’s head slammed into his face. “In case I can’t hold onto him.” 

Technbolade looked over at Phil with an expression that Wilbur couldn’t quite read. Something passed between them and his dad nodded minutely. 

Wilbur’s face darkened. What was that about? What weren’t they telling him? “No, Techno he needs-” 

“Wil come on.” Phil cut in, finally dragging his eyes down to Wilbur, “Techno has this under control, alright? There's nothin’ we can do, mate. Nothing but wait until he wakes up.” 

Of course, Phil would say that. Of course. Whatever Technoblade thought, went. Wilbur clenched his fists but got to his feet. He stalked past Phil, and into his own room, where he slammed the door shut. He heard Phil’s footsteps shuffled closer, then down the stairs. He could still make out Tommy’s sobbing, and the quiet rumble of Technoblade’s voice. Wilbur buried his face in his hands. Useless. He felt absolutely useless. 

\---

Technoblade lowered himself to the floor carefully, trying to keep Tommy’s gangly limbs from tangling as he lowered them down Tommy’s fight was already leaving him, as he started to go limp in his grip. Technoblade glazed down and saw Tommy’s eyes slowly sliding shut as he cried against Technoblade’s chest. He hadn’t been sure what Tommy was going to say- wasn’t sure if he was going to talk about fucking time-travel, so he’d done the only thing he could think to do- cover his mouth. 

It hadn’t been the smartest move- Techno had the bite marks to prove it, but he wasn’t sure how else to stop Tommy from talking. Even if he wasn’t sure why he had stopped Tommy from talking. It would have been much easier, and not technically Technoblade’s fault if Tommy had told them himself but, apparently, he’d gone soft. He couldn’t bring himself to let the kid spill the beans when he was so obviously afraid to under good circumstances. 

He blamed Chat and their apparent attachment to Tommy. 

“It’s okay Tommy,” Technoblade said quietly, wishing that he could pass Tommy off to Wilbur. “You're safe here kid.” 

Tommy was no longer sobbing so harshly and had almost entirely stopped fighting. 

“Wish I knew what’s going on in your head right now.” Technoblade grumbled, “It’s made all of this a hell of a lot easier.” 

Tommy seemed to react to his voice, whining quietly as he thrashed again, though it was half-hearted at best. “Hey, kid, it’s alright. You’re not there, wherever you think you are.” 

Tommy shuddered again, face still scrunched up. His eyes cracked open, still confused, but they finally locked on Tehcnoblade, and something like recognition sparked in his eyes. “Technoblade,” He muttered “Don’t- don’t tell him I’m here. Don’t let him take me. Please, don’t tell him I’m here. I’ll fucking die first. ” 

“I won’t kid,” Technoblade assured him quietly, despite the ice in his veins. Chat was screaming for blood, pounding in his head, blood for whatever had caused this to happen. “You’re alright kid. Just go to sleep.” 

**Technosoft?**

**Aww, Technoblade cares**

**AngstInnit**

**Blood**

**Make them pay**

**Who hurt him**

**Brother pog**

**Technosoft.**

**Blood**

**Blood**

**Find who did this and kill them**

“Chat, shut up.” Technoblade murmuered. They weren’t helping him at all, not when he needed to be the opposite of bloodthirsty. Also, he wasn't  _ soft _ . 

Tommy swallowed hard as his eyes went unfocused, and slowly slid shut, still shuddering against Technoblade’s chest. 

Technoblade hesitantly moved his hand to Tommy’s back and rubbed small circles on it, as Tommy shuddered quietly, still half-trapped between sleep and whatever nightmare was in his head. 

Technoblade had underestimated the fear Tommy had expressed. He thought Phil was exaggerating, about how terrible Tommy had been, those first few nights. If anything, Phil had understated how bad it was, if this was any indication. No wonder Philza thought Tommy was going out of his head. 

“What happened in the future, kid?” he whispered quietly as Tommy’s breathing slowly evened out. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Uh yeah I don't know how I feel about this chapter. It feels a little disjointed to me, but I like each individual part of it, so I don't know. I've had the dream scene written for... a hot minutes, so I'm pretty excited to share this with you guys. I'm not happy with this chapter totally but I think it turned out as well as it could. Also, I'm sorry for the time skip, I just didn't want to write the exact same scene of Tommy and Technoblade talking over and over again. I have some scenes I cut because they were.. just the same thing lol. 
> 
> 2\. The next chapter is going to be just as long as this one, if not longer. this one hit just at 6k, and the next one is less than halfway written and is already at 3k. Might break it up, but I'm not sure. 
> 
> 3\. If you skipped the italics and want a brief description of what his dream was, just ask me in the comments and I'll provide it!
> 
> 4\. Also, idk if I've said this before but every chapter title is from a song on the playlist I made when I started writing this lol. I kinda hate the songs now but I Cannot stop listening to them. 
> 
> 5\. Yeah that's it. I don't have much to say, but ya'll rock. Some people say they write for themselves, and this is absolutely self indulgent but I'm an attention whore who thrives on validation at the same time. Hope ya'll have a good day!


End file.
